Fortitude
by Dawn FD
Summary: Someone the Hardys and Nancy thought long gone returns to exact revenge. The Hardy, Riley & Son's Detective Agency need to respond in kind, but harder, faster and stronger in order to keep themselves safe, and pluck one of their own from the jaws of death. Working to their strengths is the name of the game.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

Frank Hardy sat at the wheel of his red convertible driving, pacing himself, taking it easy. Would have preferred to be moving quicker; his toes demonstrating this by twitching with temptation against the gas pedal, but—

He took his palm from the stick shift to his neck and kneaded a tension knot, then moved to prod the hard lump on his head and grimaced. _'Yep, it's still there!'_ Driving after sustaining a head injury wasn't the smartest decision he'd ever made, especially in the middle of the night. But as the saying goes: desperate times call for desperate measures.

His subconscious wouldn't leave him alone, prodding away with a bony finger. Frank had the unshakable gut feeling he wasn't altogether alone, that he'd somehow picked up a tail despite his defensive driving. Eyes switched in quick succession from the road ahead, to the rear and side view mirrors. He couldn't see anyone following, hadn't spotted another car since he'd left his apartment, nevertheless—

 _'_ _Stupid paranoia. Quit it, Hardy!'_ He scratched his chin and tried to shake off the itchy, irrational feeling, yet, his eyes still flickered from one viewpoint to another. He grunted.

Admittedly, although he acknowledged the foolish nature of his actions, his impulse pushed him toward his brother, to get to Joe's place, to reach out to him. He needed to put distance between himself and his apartment, to physically and mentally connect with someone he trusted.

Frank's mind flashed back to what had happened before he'd tossed handfuls of random clothes into a bag at his apartment and hot-footed it out of there. Possibly shutting the door behind him for the final time. _'Don't let the door hit you in the ass!'_ he thought, mirthlessly.

-o0o-

 _Frank hadn't sense anything wrong or off kilter when he stepped from the elevator in front of his apartment door. No unfamiliar smells, heavy atmosphere or sounds to caution him of possible danger. In retrospect, he'd allowed himself to slip into a false sense of personal security, which would now prove his ultimate undoing._

 _He fished his keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and walked across the threshold. Only once he routinely raised his hand to deactivate the burglar alarm did he realize it had hadn't beeped his arrival to invite the code to be entered._

 _Startled, he turned and found himself eye-to-eye with a stranger in a balaclava. The person must have been positioned behind the door, hidden from view as Frank stepped into his hallway. The figure grabbed him by the lapels to yank him forward as something clattered against the back of his head, delivered by another unseen stranger. The hands let go and Frank dropped into oblivion, only stopping when his cheek came to rest on the cool, polished floor boards._

 _Frank came to, splayed out on his front. The sounds of shouts and running feet greeted his aching brain. He slid a palm up over the side of his face and head, and found a knot forming on his skull. Soft for now, but later would develop into a hardened bruise. With a flinch, he returned his fingers to his face to look for blood, but found no evidence of an open wound. He doubted he'd been senseless for longer than a few seconds, but it had knocked him flat out. Slowly, he moved to position his arms either side of his shoulders and lifted his head to watch the show._

 _Stan, the security guard for his apartment block, stood boldly in the doorway in full uniform. Although Frank couldn't see his face, Stan's broad back and heavy set neck gave his identity away._

 _Bob, Frank's pyjama clad, elderly neighbor, stood on the other side of the hallway, aggressively waving his walking stick and shouting. "Don't-come-back-you-thieving-tyrants!" Each word overlapped the next. Bob always talked quickly, rambled his words. Frank didn't always catch everything he said, especially as he rarely had his false teeth in. The few times Frank_ _had_ _seen him with them in, he'd witnessed them actually shoot out of his mouth mid-babble. Bob proved himself an expert at catching and shoving them back in as though nothing had happened. Frank suspected he would have been a good baseball player in his younger years._

 _Stan looked over his shoulder and down at Frank before taking off down the corridor in pursuit of the retreating running feet._

 _Bob watched Frank for a second and then moved to hover in the doorway._

 _Frank lurched to his feet and leaned a steadying palm against the wall. He felt a bit sick and unbalanced…then the hallway turned into a funhouse and tipped, throwing him into the opposite wall. A couple of deep breaths later and everything righted and Frank felt practically normal again. He turned to Bob._

 _"_ _Burglars, Frank, mark my words. Stan'll get 'em. Wouldn't have happened in my day, we'd 'av tarred and feathered 'em! You all right, Boy? Public hangings, it's what we need!"_

 _"_ _Erm," Frank gave his head another tentative poke. "I think so. Come on in, Bob. I'm sorry."_

 _Bob shuffled in. "What'r you sorry for, Frank? Weren't your fault."_

 _"_ _Wasn't it?" Heavy footsteps approached, so Frank took a step toward the stooped old man protectively._

 _A fed up looking Stan returned. "They gave me the slip. I'm calling the cops." He stepped close and took Frank by the upper arm. "How you feeling, need a lie down? I'll call for an ambulance."_

 _Frank waved a dismissive hand. "No ambulance, I'm fine and don't call the cops on my behalf. Tell them you found intruders and chased them out, but don't trouble them about me. I've caused enough problems for everyone."_

 _"_ _Problems? You're no trouble, Frank. You and Bob, you're my least problematic tenants. Trust me on that."_

 _"_ _Enough's enough," Frank muttered and turned on his heel to walk through his apartment. He systematically moved through his home room-by-room to check no other unwanted guests were hidden inside._

 _Stan followed close behind, so when Frank finally turned toward his bedroom, Stan had to do a jaunty skip to one side to make room. "Anything gone?"_

 _"_ _Don't think so. Probably interrupted them - caught_ _me_ _by surprise, that's for sure." Frank opened his closet, took down his overnight bag, and threw it down on the bed._

 _"_ _Didn't you set your alarm?"_

 _Frank unzipped the bag and moved to slide open his top drawer. His hand hovered for a beat as he considered the possibility Stan's simple explanation could the most obvious answer. "I guess I couldn't have." He yanked the drawer open. "The system's top of the range, not easily tampered with - what a_ _dummy_ _!" He grabbed a fistful of underwear and flung it into the open bag. Very unlike how he'd usually pack which would be highly organized and neat. He didn't care, he wanted out._

 _Bob jabbed at the carrier with his stick from the doorway. "You goin' somewhere, Lad?"_

 _"_ _You betcha, I'm out of here. Off to my bro's."_

-o0o-

The sight of red and white lights pulsating in his rear window pulled Frank out of his memories. He must have gone into a trance, didn't have any recollection of the last five minutes of his journey. Not good. "Perfect!" He muttered, and glanced at his speedometer. He wasn't going over the limit and he didn't think he'd been driving badly, despite the headache.

He took another look in his mirror to double-check the lights were for his benefit. Frank could see a police cruiser right up on his fender. Headlights flashed, the cop definitely intended him to pull over. So he did, carefully.

An officer slid from the car and approached as Frank let his window down. As the cop leaned down, Frank recognized him. "Officer Bach. We're destined to forever run into one another under strange circumstances." Frank offered his hand out awkwardly through the window aperture.

Bach took it and they briefly shook. "Would seem so, Frank. I seem to spend half my shifts on a search for you. Hopefully this time it won't involve a kidnapping, murdering assassin and Lieutenant Riley's delinquent, dead brother." Bach sniggered and took his cap off. "We took a call from the security detail at your apartment building. He's concerned about you, said—" Bach paused and his head whipped around to look back. He lurched into the door, pressed and moulded his body into the metalwork as a dark car passed far too closely to Frank's scarlet convertible. It almost took Bach off his feet. "FREAKIN' IDIOT!" he bellowed. "Frank, I can see you're okay. I'm gonna see if I can't catch up with that fool."

"Take care of yourself, Bach." Frank stared into the darkness in the direction the car had gone. He wasn't sure Bach heard him as he'd already run to his car. Seconds later the squad car wheel span away in pursuit, lights and siren blaring.

Frank rubbed his throbbing temples, his headache had built to distracting proportions, and the siren hadn't helped. He dropped his glove box and shuffled through the meager contents in search of pain relief medication, but came up empty. He sighed and took the car out of neutral, hit his turn signal and peeled slowly onto the road to continue his journey.

Presently, he coasted into the marina's car lot next to the wharf where his brother's houseboat, 'Iola's Memory' had permanent mooring rights. He parked next to Joe's black motor cycle, retrieved his carry on from the backseat, and headed for the boat.

He found the inside in darkness with the blinds drawn down, to be expected considering the late hour. As he reached Joe's bedroom window, he rapped a noisy rhythm on the glass and walked to the prow to pull himself up onto the deck. He began to search through his pockets for his key, but quickly realized he'd forgotten to bring it in the rush. He rolled his eyes in frustration, but then the door opened and Joe's surprised face peered back at him.

"Dude, what are you doing here?" He wasn't in nightclothes, but at least this time he wasn't entirely naked. Although topless, he wore a pair of jeans. His blond hair steepled on one side of his head where he'd been lying down, but his blue eyes didn't look sleepy. The TV, set to freeze frame, proved to be the only light source in the room, the overhead bulb having been turned off. The hand not rested on the door held a bowl of popcorn. "I know I've an open door policy, but this is ridiculous."

"Bro, I…why aren't you in bed?"

"So asks the guy who's just turned up uninvited at my door with an overnight bag. I'm in the middle of a horror movie fest. What's your excuse? You moving in?"

"If you'll have me, temporarily."

"What?" Joe narrowed his eyes, and regarded Frank up and down. "This a joke?"

"No."

Joe's eyebrows shot up and he swept the hand holding the bowl toward the inside of his living space, spilling several kernels onto the floor. He stood aside and let Frank down the few steps into his territory.

Frank entered and threw his bag at one of the lazy boy chairs. He felt dog tired. The cold of the night had seeped right through his jacket and added to the misery of his aching head and neck. Not helped by Joe suddenly turning the overhead light on. "Ouch!" He slumped down onto the sofa and shaded the glare away from his eyes with the blade of his hand.

Rufus, Joe's large, ginger cat, busied himself in his investigation of an errant popcorn kernel next to him.

"What wrong?" Joe asked, concerned, dropping the bowl down on a small table.

"I got jumped in my apartment by burglars. They got a good hit to my head. You got any pain killers?"

"Did you lose consciousness?" Joe approached and started to plough gently through Frank's dark hair, looking for signs of broken skin. "You've got quite a bump there, Dude."

"Trust me, I'm aware of that."

Joe waited for a fuller response, but Frank offered nothing. "Did you pass out or WHAT?"

"DON'T…shout." Frank turned his squinting brown eyes up to his brother, peered out from under his hand. "I'm not sure I did, probably, but not for long. I'm okay, but I can't live in my place anymore, it's freakin' jinxed!"

Joe laughed. "Over-reaction much!" He went and dimmed the light.

Frank stopped shading his eyes. "I don't think so. Ask yourself this - how many times have you found this place turned over or besieged?"

"Well, never. James once burst in on us with a gun."

"Yeah, but he thought you were in trouble. He fell down the stairs and nearly scared Rufus half to death."

Joe laughed at the memory, and went to his kitchenette to get his first aid box down and find some pain killers.

Frank kinked his mouth up on one side, raised his fingers and used them as a count-down clock. "Well my place's been trashed. My car boosted. My hallway used as a target range to try and kill Dad and Con. Kidnapped from the elevator by a gentleman assassin…and now…hello burglars, come on in, why not, everyone else has." He half laughed. "I've run out of fingers so I've not included the uber-fight in my living room during which I nearly bashed your head in."

Joe handed Frank two tablets and a glass of water. "We had an uber-fight here too, remember? I hit you with a hand weight." He reddened slightly at the memory.

"Yeah, well. Not really the same thing, given the circumstances at the time. I needed the push when we had the fight in my place…the dumbbell thing…you know…wasn't your fault."

Joe sat down next to him, their knees touching and watched as Frank downed the tablets.

Frank continued. "If nothing else, it's not fair on my neighbors. They're elderly. Should be slowing down, not speeding up. It's turned me into a paranoid freak. I got Stan so closely involved today he could have gotten hurt."

"Stan?"

"Security Guard."

"Dude, you didn't do it, whoever busted into your apartment did that. And it's Stan's business to get involved, the clue's in the job title. They shouldn't have even got passed him."

"Whatever. So…can I stay?"

"This is the place, stay as long as you like." Joe slapped Frank's knee and rose up. "You take the bed. I'll set up shop on the sofa."

"Joe, it's your home, I'll take the sofa."

"Like I'm gonna let my half concussed brother sleep on my sofa. No arguments." Joe headed for the linen closet. "Besides I can carry on watching 'Nightmare on Elm Street' then."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Let it be known I'm doing this under heavy duress!" Frank complained as he and Joe jogged up the front steps of the police precinct building. "I told Stan not to involve me."

-o0o-

The night before, Frank had received a call from the Bayport Police. He tried to ignore the call, but Joe, who'd returned with the extra bed linen, insisted he answer it. "I don't want James bustin' in here again, waving his gun about." So Frank reluctantly did as instructed.

The officer on the end asked if he needed medical assistance. Frank said he didn't. They asked to come by the next morning to make a formal statement. Apparently, the police had visited his apartment to dust for fingerprints despite Frank's instruction to the contrary. Frank wasn't happy, hadn't wanted to put anyone out. He started to express his annoyance…and then Chief of Police Ezra Collig had snatched the call.

"Frank, I want you here tomorrow morning, sharp, to give a statement." He snapped.

"Chief, I don't want to lodge a formal complaint. There's no law which stipulates I have to. Subpoena me and I'll come…and what's with invading my apartment uninvited?"

Joe put his hands out in horror. It wasn't a good idea to argue with Ezra Collig.

The Chief grunted and started to berate Frank, his gruff voice getting louder and louder as he talked so as not to allow Frank get a word in edgewise. "Well, your attitude's going to cause your friend Stan a damn headache! He needs you to make a complaint or he'll get hell from the building's owners. The perps got by him, and he's got to somehow explain it to his bosses. How would it look if your neighbor, Mr Costa had a heart attack and it turned out Stan lied for you or hid what happened? I understand Mr Costa isn't a young man and neither's his wife…and then there's the building insurance, do you think invalidating—"

Frank bellowed, "OKAY…OKAY. Yikes! I'll come in…jeeze already!"

Collig's voice immediately dropped to a friendly level. "Good Lad. See you tomorrow, first thing." The line went dead.

Frank glared at his red phone. "Unbelievable!"

Joe laughed. "You got Collig-ed."

-o0o-

The brothers hit the top steps and now stood outside the Bayport Police Department's front doors. Frank plunged his hands into his pockets and glared up at the insignia above the entrance.

As the automatic doors swished open, Joe swept his right hand in front of him, with his palm out, pretending to be a Jedi Master commanding the doors to bend to his whim. "The force is strong with this one." He quoted and stepped through with a self-satisfied snigger.

Frank rolled his eyes and followed him into the air conditioned foyer area.

The desk sergeant raised his head from his paperwork and ran his eyes over them with indifference.

Frank approached and leaned his elbows on the countertop. "I'm here to give a statement about my burgled apartment. I'm Frank Hardy."

"I know who you are."

Joe dipped his head toward Frank and twisted away from the desk sergeant. "It seems he wants to be here about as much as you. Brother's in arms!" He moved over to the other end of the desk to read the various posters and public announcements on the notice board. Sometimes, he spotted useful leads for possible work the Hardy, Riley & Son's Detective Agency could chase.

The officer consulted the electronic diary on the screen in front of him, and picked up the phone. He stabbed a number into the keyboard and muttered some instructions into the receiver. "Someone'll be along in a few minutes." He failed to even glance Frank's way.

As it happens, someone arrived within seconds. Officer James Anderson appeared with a wide grin, holding a manila folder. He tripped by the reception counter to the side door and pulled it open. "Ah, the dark one and the blond one. Greetings, Hardy dudes!" He beckoned for the brothers to enter.

Joe grinned. "Not very professional."

"Think what your dad would say." Frank gave James a playful nudge as he too passed by.

The brothers froze at the sight of something on the other side of the open door.

James hadn't noticed their reactions. "Nah, I don't need to with you buddies," He let go of the door and it began to swing shut automatically.

"Oh yes you do, Boy!" boomed a voice which made James visually jump.

The grumpy desk sergeant laughed from round the corner.

Chief of Police Ezra Collig had evidently overheard the entire exchange from behind the door. "Unless, of course, Anderson, you want me to tell Con Riley?" He gave James a stony glare. Tall and broad, with steely grey eyes and an extreme buzz cut, Ezra Collig cut a scary figure.

James swallowed hard and turned crimson, but Collig's countenance changed and he roared with laughter. He slapped James squarely on the shoulder and sent him staggering into the wall. "Kidding, I wouldn't really tell your father." He gave each Hardy brother the equivalent numbing handshake of an industrial clamp. "Glad you decided to come in," he said to Frank.

"It's not like you gave me much choice."

Collig smirked and strode off toward his office. "All I ask is you follow procedures, Anderson," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh boy." James kneaded his shoulder, and glowered hazel eyes at Collig's back before leading the brothers toward an interview room. He levelled his credit card sized pass at the security entry system and shouldered his way into the small space.

The brothers followed and Joe automatically took a seat. He got phone out and his thumbs flicked speedily across the screen as he created a text message.

James pointed to a poster which bore the picture of a cell phone inside a red circle with a line crossed through it. "Phones to be switch off." James pulled papers from a dispenser next to the door.

Joe looked up. "C'mon James, you're not really gonna follow procedures?"

"It's exactly what I'm gonna do, you heard The Chief."

"But the door's shut; he doesn't even know what—"

"Joe!" Frank interrupted as he fiddled with his own phone. "Do as James asks, he's the boss and I don't want this taking any longer than necessary." He placed his dead cell down on the table and sat. "I don't want to be here at all. No offense Jimmy."

"None taken. Joe, if you're so desperate to use your phone, take it outside." James flicked through the sheets he'd pulled from the dispenser. "You shouldn't even be in here by rights."

"Sheesh, fine!" Joe pressed the button on the side of his handset and held it up for them to see a blank screen. "There, see? It's off. Happy now?" He jutted his bottom lip out, threw it down on the table, and slouched in his seat. Frank and James went into hysterics.

Still tittering, James sat down and bounced his chair closer to the desk. "I dig 'The Joe Show'!"

"James, if you're following procedures, then how come you're doing this interview? We're friends…surely it's a conflict of interest?" Frank asked.

"Erm, no, it's fine. We're short staffed. You know the score." James laid the paperwork down, and opened the folder to slide out a document. "Bear with me, I've not read through this yet."

Frank made a circular roll with his hand to encourage James to continue.

"You're giving a voluntary statement—"

Frank snorted.

"In compliance with Section 9 of the Criminal Justice Act 1967. You're not under arrest and under no obligation to stay. You can leave at any time during this interview. Do you understand what I've just told you?" James looked up into Frank's face.

"Yes."

"I need to confirm some facts first. From this statement supplied by—" he scanned down the page, "The security guard of the apartment complex you reside at named, uh, Stan?"

"Yes, Stan. You've met him. He showed you some security footage when my car got boosted."

James nodded in agreement. "His signature's kinda hard to read." James looked down at the paperwork, paused to find his place and continued. "Stan contacted the precinct at 12:47 hours to report possible intruders in your apartment. He says Mr Bob Costa, your neighbor, called him up to your floor to report strange noises. He also reported he and Stan observed the suspects assault you—" James looked up sharply, locked eyes with Joe and found him ready with a knowing look. He slid his eyes to Frank. "Assaulted? Why didn't you phone us immediately?"

"Cause it wasn't so bad, just a knock to the head."

"Only a Hardy would describe a home invasion and possible life-threatening confrontation as 'just a knock to the head'. You all right?"

"I'm not dead. I didn't want to cause more trouble for Stan and the other tenants. It wasn't a 'home invasion' in the way you describe. I interrupted a burglary."

"Anything taken?"

"Not as I could see."

James shook his head and sighed. "To continue… Stan gave chase, but they escaped. He described two men, one tall, one short. Then you packed a bag and left. Do you agree with the facts so far?"

"Sure, though I only saw the one guy."

James slid his pen from his shirt pocket and clicked on it. He pulled out a blank Witness Statement and laid it on the desk, along with continuation sheets, and positioned his ballpoint in readiness. "So, for recording purposes, can you confirm your name's Frank Hardy residing at—"

Frank couldn't help but laugh at this point, "There's following procedures and then there's obsessively following procedures. Fill it out yourself. It's not as if you haven't come for drinks at my apartment."

"It's cause I'm one cool and popular Dude." James grinned and scribbled down the information, only asking for verification of Frank's zip code. He reached the bottom of the form and set the piece of paper to one side. "I'm at the witness statement part, so if you can give me a rundown of what happened from your perspective? Pace yourself though, cause I'm a slow writer. Leave nothing out."

Frank closed his eyes and ran through the scene in his head to make sure every detail stood out crystal clear, and then verbally recounted the events of the night before, up until he left the apartment to go to Joe's houseboat. He finished and opened his eyes to observe James drop his pen down and massage his numb hand back into life with a grimace.

"Man alive! I said to speak slowly!"

"Not my fault you've got all the writing prowess of an eight-year-old."

James snatched the pen up and wielded it at Frank like a dagger, right under his nose which made the older Hardy Brother go cross eyed. In a smooth, practiced movement, Frank had it plucked out of James' grip and turned onto him. "You'll never be quick enough, Anderson!"

Joe smirked. "Procedures, James, procedures."

James took the pen back and rested the tip on the form. He returned his attention to Frank-the-witness rather than Frank-the-friend. "You already said you didn't find anything missing, but can you give me a description of either of the perps?"

"Like I said, I only saw the one guy, but his features were concealed. Can't remember his eye color, even if I saw it, and he stayed silent. About my height, maybe taller. Wore a balaclava, dark clothes. Strong and fast. Wasn't time to take in details."

"So, about six-two or taller?"

"Probably taller to be honest."

James scribbled for a little longer, then picked up the top sheet and surveyed it from top to bottom. He turned it over to look at the other side. "I think we're done." James gathered the sheets, put them to the back of the main form, and shuffled them into a neat pile. He finished by turning the stack around to face Frank, pushed them across, and offered his pen. "Read through them and, if you agree, sign at the bottom of each page and date them. Then we're done."

Frank coolly autographed in the denoted boxes, added the dates and returned it, along with the pen.

"Aren't you gonna read it through?"

"Nah, I trust you."

"Anything else you want to tell me?" James asked.

Joe put his hand up. "I got something to say."

James and Frank turned in surprise.

"Why assume a robbery?"

"It's a safe assumption in my opinion." Frank tipped his chin at James. "I'm sure Jimmy thinks the same." Frank glanced at James, but his face remained impassive.

"Dude. Your burglar alarm being deactivated…don't you think it's strange?"

"Probably forgot to set it, easily done."

"'Easily done'?" Joe snorted and leaned forward. "I'd agree with you but for one fact - you never forget to set your alarm. I know you, you're mega vigilant, it's an impulse. I mean, for heaven's sake…you're so worried about your territory being invaded you sleep with a gun."

James interrupted, "Do you?" he asked Frank.

"I do," Frank admitted.

"Yeah, under his pillow!"

"Thanks a lot Joe. So much for a personal life…and how do you know that?"

Joe tapped the side of his nose. "Nancy told me once. Ya kinky devil.

"Whoa," James muttered.

Joe winked at James. "Whoa indeed. And did you know he's got several other guns concealed about the apartment? I've spotted one taped to the underside of his dining table, and there's one hidden under the handtowels in his kitchen drawer. Oh! And he regularly sweeps his apartment for bugs. Welcome to the level of Frank's paranoia!"

Frank threw his hands up. "Oh, come on! For solid reasons, Joe!"

James regarded Frank though new eyes. "What are you guys investigating at the moment? Dad hasn't mentioned anything exciting."

"That's because there isn't anything, and why we've got a whole weekend off and going out this afternoon. If you wanna join us, if you can get the time off?"

"As it happens, I'm off at one."

Frank leaned away and folded his arms defensively across his chest. "Keep on subject, Bro."

"Think about it, Frank. The one and only time you've forgotten to alarm your apartment happens to be the very day your place gets turned over. Nah, I don't buy it, way too convenient."

James captured Joe in an intense stare. He leaned forward and dropped his hand onto his friend's forearm. Although his face loomed closer, he didn't drop his voice. In fact, it rose in volume. "You know what? You make for a good argument, but your theory falls short when there's no physical evidence to back it up."

Joe opened his mouth to protest, but James put a finger to his own lips and stopped the younger Hardy from speaking. He made the same clandestine gesture to Frank and went to the door.

The brothers watched, mystified, as James opened up to take a peek out. He returned to the table, but this time positioned himself between Frank and Joe's chairs and hunkered down. In a low voice he said, "I'm with you one hundred percent, Joe. It's too coincidental. I know I said I'd play this straight down line, but I'm gonna share something with you in confidence." He glanced at the door and continued. "When they swept the burglar alarm keypad for fingerprints, there weren't any, and by none, I mean none at all, not even yours Frank. So unless you clean your keypad each time you use it?"

Frank shook his head.

"Then you need to watch yourself. They went to a lot of trouble to deactivate your alarm system, and I mean, a lot of trouble. They took the whole unit apart and messed with the internals. Must've been there a long time."

"What the hell, Jimmy? You holding back on us? What aren't you telling us?"

"Nothing, other than The Chief thinks it's mighty odd considering there must have been easier prey for a burglar, and considering how sophisticated your alarm pad is. He's asked me to keep my beady eyes on you."

The brothers shared a look.

"The conflict of interest you rightly pointed out, Frank? It's no error in judgement on Collig's part the case got turned over to me. The Chief's done it for convenience - because we're friends and my dad's ex-Lieutenant, Con Riley." He dropped his voice even further. "I guess what I'm saying, is…you're not so paranoid as you both might think."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Frank, accompanied by Joe, went back to his apartment to collect more of his clothes, or at least something more appropriate to wear for an afternoon out on the town.

Earlier, Joe had offered Frank the choice of anything in his closet, but Frank had laughed at the notion. They shared different tastes in clothes and Joe took a larger size due to his muscle mass. Frank's build, in comparison, bordered on lean athleticism though martial arts, running and swimming, rather than through pulling weights and reps.

Frank took the opportunity to drop in on Bob and his wife to thank the old man for his intervention the night before. In the midst of the conversation, Bob's teeth shot out into his hand and, quick as a flash, were shoved back in.

Barely containing his hysteria, Joe immediately left Bob's apartment with streaming eyes, mumbling something about hay fever and having left his phone next door - a weak excuse as his cell had been in his hand the entire time.

Bob and his wife ignored Joe's retreat and assured Frank of their good health, but felt sad Frank might be moving on. They exchanged telephone numbers, and Frank left to find Joe, so they could return to the houseboat.

Once home, the brother's changed clothes, grabbed some food, and got back on the road in a cab.

After minutes of extended silence sat in the car, Joe leaned in closer and said, "Dude, shut the hell up would you, I can't get a word in edgewise."

"Funny guy."

"Seriously, what are you thinking?"

"I'm confused. Why would someone want to go to all the trouble to override my alarm system in order to jump me in my hallway? Far easier to attack someone in the street…more escape points."

"You've thought about it a lot, huh?"

"Only where you're with me."

Joe nudged him. "You probably weren't that wide of the mark with your first theory - you interrupted _something,_ just not a burglary. Them taking your alarm pad apart and then wiping it clean?" Joe shook his head. "More than odd."

Frank shifted his legs into a more comfortable position. "The only explanation I can think of is someone we put away in the past is out of jail and back to exact revenge." Their driver hit his turn signal and coasted toward the center of Bayport. "If that's the case, then both of us could be targets, heck, dad could be a target too."

"Dad gets notifications from Ezra Collig of perps released we've dealt with. He would've warned us if we need to watch our backs." Joe pointed past the driver's head. "Dude, can you drop us off here?" The driver pulled over at the first opportunity.

Frank alighted and handed the driver some cash, but waved the change off when offered. Joe joined him on the sidewalk and Frank continued their conversation, "Surely Ezra would've told James of any cons released who could prove a danger to us? Especially after last night,"

"I agree. And don't call me Shirley."

Frank socked his brother in the arm.

"We can ask James later." Joe glanced at his cell phone. "Oops, we're late." They picked up pace and headed for their rendezvous.

Soon, they pushed through doors and into the _Broken Oak Pub_. Thankfully, it proved quieter than the usual places they favored, with only a jukebox pumping out a continuous and random choice of music, even if none of the patrons fed the machine. It suited their needs on this occasion because they wanted to talk but not be overheard.

The brothers weaved between the tables and scanned the room for Vanessa, Joe's tall, ash-blonde girlfriend, and James Anderson. They will have arrived together. A logical arrangement as Con Riley and Vanessa's mother, Andrea Bender, were in a committed and serious relationship. Recently Con had moved into Andrea's house and put his own up for sale, which meant James and Vanessa were now permanent housemates.

Frank spotted James waving from the far corner of the bar area, where he and Vanessa had claimed a table with four seats. He nudged Joe and led him through to where their friends sat.

"Hey handsome!" Vanessa said and beamed up at them.

"Thanks," Joe said and treated her to one of his special smiles.

"I didn't mean you, I meant The Frankster."

The special smile dropped as James mocked loudly, "Ha haaa..burned!" and pointed at him. Several people turned to look at Joe.

Frank dropped down into the seat next to James. He leaned across the table to peck Vanessa on the cheek. "Why thank you kindly, beautiful lady."

Joe snaked his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. "Back off, she's spoken for. Find your own."

James pushed two beers in their direction.

Joe picked up his drink and took a long swig.

"James?" Frank pulled his friend's attention away from his conspiratorial grinning at Vanessa. "Has The Chief said anything to you about any bad guys being released from prison who we've had dealings with in the past?"

Vanessa frowned. "What do you want to know that for?"

Joe leaned in so he could hear James' answer.

"No, nothing." James turned to Vanessa. "Frank got jumped in his apartment last night. Keep it to yourself, but Collig's asked me to keep my eyes on Frank. He doesn't put much weight on the 'random attack' or 'burglary' theory."

"You got attacked?" she spluttered to Frank, and laid her hand on top of his. " _Frank!_ "

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I've moved in with Joe for a while to consider my options. I'm not sure I want to go back to the apartment. It doesn't feel right anymore."

"I can't say I blame you, the place holds a lot of negativity. At least then you can move on from the nasty stuff and get some distance between you and Nancy."

Frank broke eye contact, picked up his drink, and downed a good mouthful. "Not an issue. Nancy Drew and me? We both knew it'd never work. The long distance thing's too hard to navigate."

"Who you trying to kid?" Joe asked. "You said you'd found _'the one'_."

Vanessa joined in, "Correct! And she's perfect for you, and you're perfect for _her_. Two halves of one whole. Or at least it's what you used to think of Nancy."

"Sentimentality," Frank countered. "Look, guys, I know you're disappointed because you liked Nancy—"

"LIKE!" they three chorused as one.

"Whatever! 'Like' rather than 'liked' then. It's the way things happen sometimes. Just know Nancy Drew and I feel exactly the same. We're fine with the way things turned out."

Vanessa rested her chin on her hand and stirred her pink drink with her straw. "But it happened so suddenly, so fast, with no warning. We went out clubbing with Mr H, and then the next day, POOF, you'd finished and Nancy flew home with hardly an 'au revoir'."

"I can't help the timing of it, it just happened." Frank grew irritated by being forced to bat questions away about his private life. "Look, it wasn't just my decision, we came to it jointly…can we change the subject? It's ancient history."

"If ancient history's four months ago!" Joe muttered sarcastically.

Frank sighed and sat back away. "Please, everyone, quit it."

"If you're not interested, can I ask her out on a date?" James cut in with a smirk.

Frank watched Joe take the last gulp of his drink. "Don't push your luck, buddy!" He sensed from Vanessa's body language she wasn't about to drop the matter, so he decided to take the opportunity to leave the table. "I'll get another round in." He stood up. "Same again? What's that concoction, Vanessa?"

"A Pink Elephant. It's nice, want to try?"

"Not for me, thanks."

"Same again."

The room had grown busy, the noise having mounted as people raised their voices above the music and din. Frank dodged through patrons in order to get to the bar but managed to not tread on anyone or get trampled. He reached the service area and waited in line.

He became acutely aware someone had positioned themselves close to him, which wasn't abnormal given their situation in front of a public bar, but their hips were touching which _wasn't_ natural. He glanced down and met a pretty face smiling up - a woman, not much older than himself, with coal black eyes and impossibly neat, dark, bobbed hair. "Hi," she said. "I'm not being a queue jumper, honestly."

"You're welcome to if you'd like?"

"I'm happy here."

Frank nodded and looked at his brother's table. He, James and Vanessa were pointing at the girl and making encouraging, but inappropriate gestures. Frank's mouth lifted on one side and he shook his head. He wished the girl would go away.

"Do you come here often?" she asked.

"Does that line ever work?"

Her mouth dropped. "Worth a try."

Frank smiled ruefully, and he attempted to exclude her from his non-physical space by ordering his round of drinks. He turned slightly. She tensed, disappointed at his lack of interest. He didn't want to get into anything with anyone. To give her any encouragement would be a mistake and unfair.

The bartender dropped a tray down in front of him and Frank began to load the drinks onto it. As he reached for the last beer, a small hand snaked in. "Let me help you," said the girl, but she badly misjudged her grab. Too enthusiastic, she caught the glass with her manicured nails and sent it, at a slide, off the bar and into the work area beyond. She made a swiping snatch, but it disappeared from view and landed with an ear splitting smash. Beer and glass sprayed in all directions, causing the bar staff to jump clear of the danger zone. The patrons clapped and cheered _,_ and the bar tenders glared as one at Frank and the girl. Frank raised his hands in protest.

"My fault, totally my fault!" the woman shouted, crimson faced. "I'm so sorry."

"You really know how to impress a guy don't you?" Frank said, and waved Joe and James off. They'd heard the commotion and had risen from their seats. From their vantage point, they weren't able to see what happened. At Frank's wave, they dropped back down.

One of the bar staff started to sweep up the broken glass carefully, while Frank's bartender stepped cautiously nearer. "Don't worry; let me get you a replacement."

The girl touched Frank's arm. "You go to your friends. This one's on me, I insist. I apologize," she said to the bartender again.

"No problem."

Frank hesitated for a moment, unsure, still not wanting to encourage her. But then he shrugged his agreement and lifted the tray. "Thanks."

He reached the table and found the other three eyeing him curiously. "Pretty girl," James observed.

"I guess. I'm not interested though." He unloaded the drinks, particularly juggling with the curly straws and slices of fruit in and around Vanessa's glass of pink liquid. It looked like a cleansing solution to Frank.

"I swear you're doomed to a life of solitude and being eaten by cats," Joe muttered.

"Huh. Thanks Bro for your vote of confidence. Much like James then?"

"Don't involve me!"

Joe slid out from the table and headed for the rest room taking the tray with him.

Frank took the beer he'd allocated for Joe and sipped it. Presently, the pretty girl appeared at his shoulder, so he put his drink down and accepted the replacement glass she handed him. He set it down in front of Joe's place and thanked her.

For an instant, a strange look crossed her face before she tightly smiled. "I think I'm batting above my average with you. Nice a nice evening," she said quickly and left.

"Awkward," James muttered and his phone beeped. He picked it up off the table to read a message. "I've gotta phone work, one of my buddy's needs to talk to me." He left his seat and headed for the outside door. He passed Joe staring at the girl as she exited.

Joe slid back into his seat. "You scared her off good, Dude." he said and re-wrapped his arm around Vanessa's shoulders and she snuggled in. He picked up his glass and took a long drink.

"Didn't you see her as good as throw my beer at the bartender?"

"That's what happened? A clumsy move in anyone's book," Vanessa's gaze settled over Frank's shoulder toward the doors. She frowned and her lips turned up at the corners with amusement.

Frank turned to see an ambulance idling in the road with its red emergency lights flashing. The girl, who'd chatted up Frank, had her face turned up with her hands rested on the door as she talked to one of the paramedics. The medic leant out of the window.

Vanessa mouth dropped open slight and she laughed. "The worst move I've ever seen! She's got gumption, I'll give her that," She shook her head at Frank in disbelief.

The EMT opened his door and helped the woman climb aboard. The ambulance's blinkers flashed, and it edged into the traffic and left.

"Smooth. Keeping it classy!"

Joe turned to Vanessa. "You don't need to make an effort, Babes, you're hot as. The guys flock to you. Takes all my energy to fight them off." Joe took his arm from around her shoulders and slumped forward with his arms on the table and rested his chin on his fist.

James re-entered the bar through the door with a grim expression on this face.

"Did you see that?" Vanessa asked him loudly.

"Huh?" James, distracted, looked behind him. "What?"

"James the observant Cop strikes again—" Frank wound down at the sight of James' deep frown. "What's up, Jimmy?"

Someone walked too close to James and jostled him. "Hey man, watch it!" The guy who bumped James turned and looked him up and down. They started an aggressive eye balling competition.

Bemused by this unexpected chain of events, Frank jumped up. "It's all cool," he said to the man, and pulled James away by the upper arm. "For pity's sake, sit down, what's up with you?"

James sat and took a long slug of his drink. "You know my mate, Bach?"

"Of course we do," Vanessa said. "Nice guy."

"They found him in his wrecked car out on Shore Road. Trapped in it since last night. Had to cut him out of it."

Vanessa's hands rushed to her mouth, "Oh no!"

"He's critical, they don't know if he'll pull through. Had to air ambulance him to the hospital."

"What happened?"

"Looks like someone ran him off the road just short of the cliff drop. Lucky not to have gone over, if you can call what happened _lucky_. His car ended up out of sight of the road on the cliff edge, which is why he wasn't seen earlier."

"Shit!" Frank uttered, his fingers in his hair.

"Yeah. They think he'd tried to stop someone. He'd thrown a stinger strip across the road."

"No. I mean…shit…I saw Officer Bach last night on Shore Road."

"You _saw_ his wrecked car?"

"Of course not, what do you take me for? Before…as I headed to Joe's place...Bach pulled me over, but a speeding car nearly ran him down, driving like a maniac. He took off after it."

"What?" James narrowed his eyes, processed what Frank told him. "No…doesn't make sense. If that's the case, then—" James stopped, his eyes settled on Joe.

Frank's attention similarly snapped around to his kid brother as Joe made a violent and unnatural twitching movement. "Bro?"

Joe went to speak, looked confused at both of them, then fell face first across the table.

Frank shot out of his seat, and James pushed himself backward. He nearly upended his chair to avoid Joe's empty beer glass rolling off the table.

"JOE!" Vanessa squealed and put her arms around him to give him a shake. She had no way of getting out from behind the table. Joe's position had her trapped against the wall.

Frank's hand thrust straight to Joes' neck and felt for a pulse. He found it almost immediately.

Vanessa put her head closer to her boyfriend's, "Joe?" She got no response. "Frank, what's happening?"

Frank came around to their side of the table and also shook Joe, but with a firmer shake than Vanessa could or wanted to muster. "Joe…JOE?"

Joe's arm slid off the table and flopped into Vanessa's lap.

Frank pushed himself upright "I'm guessing something's been slipped in his drink. I knew something smelled 'off' about that girl. Help me get him to the floor."

They did that and put Joe into the recovery position as a curious group began to gather.

Frank retained a protective hand on Joe's shoulder and pulled his cell phone from his pocket with the other. "I'll call for an ambulance."

"I'm not sure this is what Joe had in mind when he decided to organise an afternoon's fun," Vanessa said from her crouched position on the other side.

James glanced at the gathering, curious faces starting to swarm them. "I'll crowd control," he said. "You guys are amazing! Socializing with you is never a drag."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you for the lovely feedback. Some of you I've not been able to thank personally, so I'm talking the opportunity to do that now. Any feedback received is really appreciated - it warms the heart and makes all those months of work worthwhile. If you have any questions, you can do that in the review section to, I'm open to discussion. :-)**_

 _ **Dawn FM x**_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4**

They hadn't been able to wake Joe, despite all attempts to talk him out of it. Whatever had been put into the drink had worked well; he'd remained unresponsive and unconscious throughout the entire process of being lifted onto a gurney. Joe would have been embarrassed at being wheeled past all the onlookers in a public bar. The line _'How drunk's_ _that_ _guy?'_ could be heard said more than once.

"Do you think she meant for you to drink it?" Vanessa asked Frank quietly, as they stood watching Joe being loaded onto the back of the ambulance.

"She didn't look happy when I gave Joe the drink - couldn't get away fast enough."

"And she hitched a ride in an ambulance. An emergency vehicle makes a great getaway car. She struck lucky."

"Hmm.".

They continued to watch as they loaded Joe's onto the ambulance. The medic monitoring him climbed aboard and laid his red medical bag on Joe's lower legs. Then he made room for another passenger on the side bench.

James talked in earnest into his phone. He snapped at the person at the other end and walk off out of sight behind them. They heard him grunt and then he reappeared at their side making a rude face at the phone. "Yes Sir, although I don't know how I'm…okay, but with all due respect…I _will_ …but if I get a black eye, I'm suing!" He disconnected the call, barred his teeth, and turned to look up the road expectantly.

Frank and Vanessa followed his gaze to see a squad car arrive.

Frank touched Vanessa's arm. "You go in the ambulance with Joe. James and I will hail a cab and see you there." He took her hand and helped her up the steps and inside.

The second EMT moved to shut the doors but Vanessa got her hand to them first. "Wait a couple of seconds." She sensed James about to say something important.

James bit his lip and took a deep breath. "Actually Frank, that's not gonna happen, at least, not the part about the cab ride."

"They won't let us all travel in the ambulance."

"You don't understand. The Chief doesn't want you to go to the hospital; he wants you down at the precinct. He's sent this car to collect us."

"What? NO!"

"Sorry Frank." He took Frank by the bicep and tried to move him.

Frank _did_ move, but only to take a step and loom above him. "Remove your hand unless your plan on losing it."

James did move it, and quick, but he didn't back off.

"FRANK!" Vanessa said sharply.

Frank's head tipped slightly at the sound of her voice.

The _last_ thing James should've done - to encourage Frank to move by using physical force; Vanessa knew how much Frank hated to be pulled about. "I'm sure The Chief's got good reason to ask you to go to the station. I'll look after Joe. It's not like he's aware you're here, and he'll understand."

Frank still stared rebelliously at James, not releasing him from his glare. James, to his credit, watched back, just not as steadfastly.

James' fellow police officer stepped out of the car and began to unclip cuffs from his belt, his eyes on Frank.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me?" Vanessa spluttered "JAMES! Stop this!"

James put a firm palm up to stop his colleague's approach. "You're killing me, Frank. I've got to take you down town. The Chief's ordered me to handcuff you if you resist, but I don't want to. If you start to fight me, I'll be no match and my buddy will have to pile in. You'll give us no choice BUT to cuff you. Collig wants you put into protective custody and I'd rather do it without the bracelets. Come on Frank, it's me, your ol' mate, Jimmy. I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't important. I don't have a death wish."

Frank levelled a fierce look for a few more agonising seconds, but then suddenly grinned and said, "You got Collig-ed, didn't you?"

"Did I ever!"

Frank eyes finally left James' and went to Vanessa's. "Go." Out of character, Frank then allowed James to pull him to the car and push him in. James waited for his friend to scoot across and then dropped in beside him. The other officer returned his bracelets to their home and took the wheel.

The medic finally shut the doors of the ambulance, and passed around to the front to climb aboard.

-o0o-

Five minutes into the ambulance journey, Joe inexplicably came to with a jolt. "What's going on?" he asked, and sat bolt upright.

Vanessa jumped and the EMT lifted his hands away with a start. "Welcome back!" he said brightly. "Can you relax down for me please, Joe? I need to check you over."

Joe did as asked, but removed the oxygen tube from under his nose. "What's happened, Van? Where's Frank?" He allowed the paramedic to slide a blood pressure cuff up his arm and begin to inflate it.

"Frank's with James. They're on their way to the precinct. Ezra Collig sent a car for them. Frank cooperated fully, went willingly and without a fight."

Joe looked sideways at her. "Willingly?" a smile crept forth. "Pull the other one, Van."

Vanessa nudged the EMT. "He's fine," she announced.

He chuckled, finished his blood pressure check, and started to flick a light in and out of Joe's eyes. "Follow the light for me. Your eyes, they're a nice blue color."

"Thanks. What happened, Van?" Joe asked again, while he allowed the medic to do his job.

"The girl who chatted Frank up? He thinks she slipped something into his drink, but you drank it instead."

"Wow. Someone needs to tell her there's such a thing as _too_ eager." The penlight went away and Joe rubbed his eyes.

The EMT's hands fluttered over Joe's buttoned front. "Do you mind if—?"

"Sure." Joe undid his shirt and pulled the two halves aside.

"Wow, quite a musculature you've got there. Do you own a gym or something?" the paramedic placed his stethoscope over his heart to listen.

"No," Joe answered and addressed his girlfriend. "What does The Chief want to talk to Frank about?"

"I dunno."

"You ought to do some modelling, if you don't already." The paramedic shifted the stethoscope to the other side and listened intently.

"Not really my thing."

The medic sat back. "You can refasten your shirt, Joe. It wasn't a seizure so I suspect your brother's correct, someone dropped something into your drink. Your system seems free of it now. Do you feel dizzy or lethargic?"

"Quite the opposite - perky." Joe sat and leaned to lift the red medical bag off his ankles. He re-buttoned his shirt and zipped his jacket up. "I feel kind of stupid wasting your time. Can you let us off so we can follow on after my brother?"

"Disappointing. I guess so, but it's the first time an ambulance has ever arrived at the ER with no patient aboard." He reached up and turned off the siren and lights, and pushed his head between the front seats to ask the bemused driver to stop. Then he moved to let the young people out.

The doors were opened and Joe jumped down onto the road, and then lifted Vanessa down. "Thanks," he said to the helpful paramedic, and shook his hand.

"I hope we meet again," the EMT continued to grasp his hand lightly, and held Joe's gaze.

"Okay then." Joe let go and slammed the doors so the ambulance could carry on its journey. He gave Vanessa a puzzled glance. "Did he just hit on me?"

Vanessa giggled. "I think he might have."

"Inappropriate!" Joe took Vanessa's palm and they ran down the sidewalk. Joe waved his hand to hail a cab.

-o0o-

As soon as Frank and James arrived at the station, the officer accompanying them used his security pass to take them through the precinct to Chief Collig's large office, where the big man waited for them. He glanced up and saw them coming through the floor to ceiling windows and lumbered up to greet them. He opened the door and ushered them through. The other officer attempted a hasty retreat. Alas, he spun back at Collig's bellowed, "WONG! Two coffees, boy. Make 'em hot, strong, sweet and bad to know!".

"We're not drunk, Chief!" James protested.

"Not so much you, but YOU—" Collig pointed at Frank, "You look _blitzed_."

"No. What you're looking at is a pissed off Hardy who doesn't want to be here, and should be with his sick brother. Instead, you bullied me here against my will, using James and Wong. What happened to my legally entitled freedom of choice?"

Collig drew himself up to his full height. "It flew out of the window when one of my officers found himself almost killed out on Shore Road in the wee small hours…an incident which a _pissed off_ Hardy's a witness to." He jabbed a thumb in the direction of two chairs. "SIT DOWN and COOPERATE, or I'll arrest you for obstruction." He directed his next order to James in a softer tone. "You too Anderson, take a seat."

Chastened, Frank went to sit stiffly in a chair, and planted his feet, as James sank down awkwardly into the other seat.

Collig sat behind his desk, rested his hands on top in front of him, and laced his fingers together. He proceeded to stare silently at his twiddling thumbs, until the door opened and Officer Marty Wong entered with two coffees. He placed them down in front of Frank and James, as Collig spoke. "Drink. I need clear heads."

The young men dutifully picked up the cups and sipped the hot liquid.

Collig addressed Frank. "I know you're worried about Joseph but it sounds, from what James told me, they used a date-rape drug. If that's the case, once it's worn off and he's awake, I'll send a squad car to pick him up. Right now, my priorities lie with helping Officer Bach and also you, Frank. I think what happened to Bach is directly related to what's happening to you."

Frank shifted his weight. "It wasn't a date-rape drug," he muttered.

"What's that?"

Frank put the cup down. "At least, not in the traditional sense of the term 'date-rape'. She laced Joe's drink, yes, but the drug wasn't meant for Joe, they were targeting me. And it wasn't dropped in my drink to make me sexually compliant. The woman wanted a way to transport me away easily, to separate me from the others with minimum fuss."

James started in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't see the other ambulance, did you? The one parked outside the bar the girl left in? Just as you were coming back in after your phone call?"

James looked baffled.

"I think their plan included waiting for the drug to take effect, then use it as an opportunity to take me away, no questions asked. I suspect their intention last night, with messing with my keypad…to put mechanisms in place ready for the most convenient moment to collect me. But I came home expectantly and wrecked their plan."

James mumbled under his breath, low and incoherent. He sunk further into the chair.

"My guess's they took my keypad apart so they could fix it and dictate when it worked and when it didn't. That way they could come back whenever they liked."

James made a strange noise in his throat, like a strangled cough and trod on Frank's foot.

Frank frowned at him, but carried on. "They probably would have taken advantage of the situation last night and taken me then and there, if Bob and Stan hadn't gotten in their way.

Collig settled an accusatory gaze on James. "I'm guessing from the way you're talking, and the way Anderson's trying to shut you up, he told you about the keypad on your burglar alarm? About it being wiped clean of prints?"

James crossed his arms and pushed his legs out in front of him to stare at his feet, very Con-like.

Frank laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "He did, and told me they'd taken it apart to tamper with it. Jimmy made a judgement call on a bad decision _you_ made. If he hadn't shared, I wouldn't have known someone's gunning for me. Someone could've snatched me off the street. Instead, it's made me careful and I've kept people around me for protection. If you punish James, you won't get any further cooperation out of me, or my family." Frank lowered his voice, "I'm warning you Ezra, you give him a hard time—"

Chief Collig broke his gaze with James. "He won't hear anything else about it. I've realized he's matured into a fine officer, who's able to think independently and act on instinct." He switched his attention to James thoughtfully, "There's a lot of your father in you and not a lot of your uncle. You're on the right path. You should have more confidence in your abilities."

James fidgeted in his seat. "Thanks. Means a lot coming from you."

Frank gave his shoulder a squeeze and let go.

Collig's eyes ran over James and then returned to Frank. "Why do you think they want to kidnap you?"

Frank raised his shoulders. "Could be any number of reasons, given the line of work I'm in. But the girl wasn't happy when Joe started drinking the beer. And I'll tell you something else, she wore a disguise - a wig and colored contact lenses."

"You really don't know what this is about, Lad?"

"Nope."

"So what happened on Shore Road? You don't say anything in your witness statement about it."

"It wouldn't. As far as I knew, the two incidents were unrelated. From what I understand, Stan phoned you guys to report the burglary and assault. So Bach pulled me over to check me out. I should've wondered after, why one of your boys called me at Joe's houseboat to ask the same question, but I wasn't thinking coherently, my head hurt, angry still. If Bach had radioed our encounter in, there shouldn't have been a follow-up call. Did he call it in?"

"No."

Frank nodded. "As it happens, Bach and I didn't get time to talk for long because a car shot past at a ridiculous speed. Nearly slammed him into my car."

"So Bach chased after the vehicle?"

"Got straight into his squad car and drove off. I carried on to Joe's place. I didn't see anything else."

"You didn't see a stinger strip?"

James cut in, "That doesn't make sense, Chief. Why would Bach put the equipment down, get into his car, drive away, come back, and drive over his _own_ stinger strip? Bach loves his practical jokes, but it's a joke too far even for him!"

Chief Collig sat back in his chair and steepled his hands, and pushed his index fingers into his bottom lip. "I agree. We assumed at first the stinger belonged to him, but his equipment has been found in the wreckage. The other spike strip wasn't across the road; we found it bunched up to the side and it isn't one of ours. There were tire prints from another vehicle imprinted in the grass where it had circled around to avoid it. The imprints were deep, the vehicle had been going at speed. We now believe Bach drove over the stinger, and it caused him to lose control of his car. His tires were shredded. He didn't stand a damn chance."

"Why would someone do that?" James asked.

Collig raised his chin. "I personally think Bach placed himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they needed to dispose of him. I don't think whoever put the stinger in the road intended for Bach to take the hit initially. He got in the way of their intended victim, so they purposefully goaded him to chase them. The weight of Bach's car coupled with the speed moved the equipment off the road. I think they laid the stinger to disable someone else's car. Considering it's only half a mile from the marina where Joe's houseboat's moored…well…you can work out the rest."

"Suddenly I feel _real_ sober." Frank scrapped his fingers through his hair and over his scalp. "I drove right by Bach and the stinger and I didn't see a thing. The poor schmuck…out there all night."

"But why? Why Frank specifically?" James asked.

"You investigating anything on your own?" Collig asked.

"I don't do solo work, and there's nothing major going down at the agency. As Joe and I told James earlier, work's dry, zero excitement - cheating spouses, advice on personal or home security, small scale fraud, nothing more exciting. You wouldn't believe how boring it is. Dad and Con have taken on some consultative work until things pick up. Dad's even allowed himself to be booked to speak at a couple of conferences and he hates them, rather be out in the field."

"In that case, let's hash this out between us," Collig said. "See if we can't come up with something." He sat up straight and glanced up at the wall clock above his door. "I'll contact you fathers. Together we can brain storm the heck out of this thing." He slid his top drawer open, fished out a sticky notelet pad, and reached for a pen. "Give me their numbers."

The young men gave them from memory as Collig scribbled them down and headed for the door. He opened it wide, scanned the seated occupants in the bullpen and bellowed, "WRIGHT!"

The officer came running and Collig stepped to lay a hand on his shoulder. He passed him the post-it-note and fed him instructions while Ben Wright nodded.

Frank's phone began to play the _Mission Impossible_ theme tune to announce a call. He fished it out and glanced at the screen. _'Unknown Number'_ greeted him. He accepted the call, assumed it would be the hospital. "Hello."

There ensued a long pause, until a robotic voice said, _"Frank Hardy."_

Frank took his turn to pause, back-footed by the alien sound.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, the voice repeated: _"Frank Hardy."_

Frank thought fast to try and decide how best to respond. In the end he gave a tentative but controlled, "Yes." He stood up and walked to the window to look out at the view, but wasn't seeing anything on a conscious level. His heart picked up pace and his hackles rose.

James took an interest and stood himself.

 _"_ _You know us."_

Frank frowned, confused. Because of the mechanical quality of the voice and speech pattern, he couldn't work out if he heard a question or statement. The lack of undulation made it impossible to hazard a guess. He couldn't hear breaths on the other end or any background noise. He turned away from the window. "You know us?" He often found if he repeated people's phrases or questions back, it made them reveal more than they wanted to. Not this time, the only effect, another long pause. "You're gonna have to give me more than that." Frank looked at James and then across to Ezra who'd returned to the room and had frozen.

 _"_ _Give us the code."_

Frank stopped pacing and stilled. His heart froze and his hand gripped the phone so tightly his fingers went white. "What?" he asked in no more than a whisper.

James walked over and lifted enquiring hands.

 _"_ _Give us the code."_

Frank swallowed hard. He didn't want to ask the question, didn't want to hear an answer that would fling him mentally back spinning into the black hole he'd fought so hard to climb out of. He connected with James for an instant and then closed his eyes. _'Please…not again!'_ He silently prayed. Then opened his eyelids and asked slowly, "Code to what?"

 _"_ _Pandora."_

The line went dead, as did Frank's grip.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Joe and Vanessa stepped from the cab outside of the police precinct to reconnect with Frank and James, to find out exactly why Chief of Police Collig had swooped down on Frank.

Joe moved to the front of the car to pay the driver, just as the trophy, which had stood on the shelf behind Collig's office chair, smashed through a window. They spun toward the noise in time to witness the award indent itself into an unlucky, stationary squad car parked in the wrong spot. Intense yells and sounds of destruction filtered through the now ruined window, and sailed out across the parking lot.

"Is that Frank's voice?" Vanessa asked, horrified.

"Crap!" Joe threw the money at the cab driver and took the concrete steps two at a time into the building and the foyer area. He found everyone up on their feet, agog, as Collig's voice boomed clear across the office at Frank to ' _calm himself'_ and for his officers to ' _hold back'_ and _'I'll handle it'_.

Frank screamed his wish to _'kill'_ an unknown entity. Joe hoped Frank didn't mean The Chief, as it would be a shockingly dumbass move.

The officer on desk duty had his back turned to Joe, hadn't seen him come in. "HEY! Joe yelled. The officer jumped and spun. "Let me in," Joe pointed at the security door. "OPEN UP!"

The officer finally recognized Joe, and took the few steps to grab the door handle and give him entry. He flattened himself along the wall as Joe careened by him and tore across the room to Collig's office.

Joe found Frank in the middle of the room with his fists balled up, and his eyes ablaze. He and Collig were toe-to-toe with Frank doing the majority of the shouting. Red faced and out of control…livid. Things were about to take a turn for the worse as Joe could tell Collig had reached the point of explosion - a scary thought considering how loud Ezra's voice could be at the best of times.

Joe rushed through the open doorway, pushed Collig out the way, and took Frank firmly by the shoulders to spin him. Frank's eyes didn't leave Collig's, only his body went with Joe. "Frank, look at me, LOOK AT ME BRO!" Joe shouted and tapped Frank's chin. "ME…LOOK AT ME!" Frank's head finally snapped away from The Chief and his eyes locked onto his brother's. Every single muscle seemed to be tense and shaking. "Calm down, yeah? Take a deep breath." He patted Frank's shoulder. "You with me?"

Frank blinked and registered his situation. "Joe?"

"Dude, seriously, what gives?"

Frank looked around and saw all eyes were on him. "I need some air." He turned to Collig. "Sorry," he muttered, pushed by Joe and moved off at a sprint, so fast Vanessa weaved away to avoid a collision as he ran by.

"What the _hell_ happened here?" Joe asked Collig forcefully.

"Son, I wish I could answer your question. He took a call on his cell. You saw the result."

"It wasn't anything The Chief did," James confirmed.

Joe took off after his brother. He ran down the office to the reception desk but Frank had already gone out of view. The desk sergeant pointed to the outside door and Joe dashed through, edged his way through the automatic door even though it'd barely opened a few inches. He couldn't see his brother until he looked over his shoulder and found him to the side of the entrance.

Frank had bent himself over with hands on his knees to catch his breath. He slid down the wall into a crouch; put his hands half over his eyes and into his hair.

Joe sank down onto his haunches next to Frank and slipped an arm about his shoulders. "Tell me about the call."

Frank came out from under his palms. "It's starting again, bro."

"What's stating again?"

"Pandora, she's back. Gray said the Pandora Posse would never be released, he promised me, he promised _us_."

Vanessa came. She knelt down, took Joe's hand and wrapped the other arm around Frank to hug him tightly. They made a small protective circle between them. "This time you're not alone, Frank," she whispered.

Joe, shocked senseless, felt relieved Frank's had buried his face into Vanessa's neck so his brother couldn't see the look on his own face. He swallowed the shock down and mentally gave himself a shake. In as strong a voice as he could muster he said, "We'll take them on face first together this time." He let go of Vanessa's hand and ran his knuckles over his eyes. "Can you to stay with him for a while?" he asked her. "I need to do some cleaning."

"Of course, go do damage control, we'll be in soon."

He kneaded his brother's stiff neck. "Frank, like I said; take some deep breaths. I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems." His statement sounded hollow even to Joe. "This time you've got many hands to help." Joe came up out of his crouch to re-enter the building. Another thought occurred, and he turned. "Do you want me to get Nancy?"

"No."

Confusion washed over him. Joe couldn't wrap his head around the fact his brother and Nancy Drew were no longer an item, it didn't sit right. At this point he did expect Frank would need her and need her badly. She'd been his rock the first time he'd dealt with the Pandora problem, his constant. He shook off the unbalanced feeling and re-entered the foyer.

He slumped down into one of the reception chairs to calm down for a while, shaking his head at the concerned, desk sergeant's offer of coffee.

Eventually he felt calm enough to continue and headed through into the main office. He travelled on a straight course with his head down, avoiding all the curious gazes, and went straight to Collig's office to hover in the doorway. He watched as Collig replaced his phone on his desk top.

James, still there, moved about, picking up the carnage left in Frank's wake.

Collig saw Joe standing in the doorway and approached to put his hand on the small of his back, and gently encourage him further into the room. He then coughed loudly to get everyone's attention. "Carry on as you were, excitement's at an end." He shut the door and turned to Joe. "Anyone else and I'd have locked 'em up. I want answers. What you got for me?" He went to the broken window which now accepted a cold breeze and dropped down the blind.

James bent down to pick something up with a sweeping action and then moved behind Collig's desk to pick up more items.

"Remember the Pandora case Frank and us, but primarily Frank, got dragged into nearly twelve months ago?"

James froze for a second in picking up an address book, and stood to listen.

"Of course I do, it nearly did Frank in…nearly did both of you in. And I lost the best member of my team to your damn agency. I'm not likely to forget."

"The guy who heads up The Network promised the gang would never leave the high security prison he put them in. Now it's obvious they're out because they're back for more."

Collig drew himself up. "Is this as serious as it sounds?"

"It's _damn_ serious!" Joe growled. How angry he sounded! He swallowed and tried with a softer tone this time. Collig either hadn't noticed or chose not to. "Yeah, it's serious. The Pandora Posse will kill any of us to get what they want. And they're without mercy. In fact, I'm not comfortable with Frank and Van being out front alone." His hand strayed to his back and rubbed. He could feel the scar tissue and pitting left from the bullet delivered by one of the Posse all those months ago; a disfigurement which still ached in bad weather and left him with a weakness in the muscle.

"Don't worry about them, Lad, I've a couple of officers on watch outside. Been there since Frank arrived earlier."

Joe blinked in surprise.

"You're not the only one with gut instinct and there's details you don't know yet."

"Little wonder Frank lost it," James said. He made his way closer and leaned his rump against the conference table. He turned his hand over and showed Joe he'd picked up Frank's red phone. "I wonder what they said to him."

Joe took the cell. The screen now had a crack which started in the top right hand corner, a spider web of destruction which branched outwards to the bottom. Evidently Frank had attempted to send it in the same direction as the trophy. Joe tentatively turned it on and the screen burst into life.

"It's still working?" Collig asked, surprised.

"Luckily," Joe said. He slumped back next to James and began a thumb dance across the screen.

"You know your brother's password?"

"We know each other's, it's about trust," Joe muttered, distracted as he swiped. James watched silently until Joe's hand froze and he turned the screen toward Collig in amazement. "They didn't withhold their number!"

Collig moved closer, intrigued by Joe's revelation.

"Shall I—?"

"Call it back, Lad? Why not? It's not as if Frank invited _them_ to phone _him_."

"James, you got your cell phone to hand?"

"Sure do, why?"

"Do you have a recording app?"

"A-ha!" Appreciating what Joe wanted, James dug into his pocket, pulled his phone free and began a similar thumb dance as Joe. "Andddd…okay, ready. Go for it, Bud." He positioned his phone next to Frank's device.

Officer Ben Wright attempted to enter the office, but Ezra waggled a finger to prevent him and he went away.

Joe thumbed the green call button, and set the call to loud speaker. He rammed the volume up to maximum so they could listen in, and James' phone would be able to pick up and record the conversation.

Joe felt sure it would record his heart beat as well. His adrenaline level had built up massively, working in collaboration with his heart to push his anxiety levels through the roof. His blood blasted audibly around the arteries in his head, focussing his attention to pinprick accuracy.

It took a while for Frank's phone to connect but then it did, and began to ring. After two trills, someone picked up, much to Joe's surprise. A short pause happened before the responder said anything, but eventually, _"Frank Hardy," s_ aid the mechanical voice.

Joe felt himself go goosepimply. "Not this time," he answered, careful to maintain an even tone.

An even longer pause, and then, _"Joe Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code_ — _"_

"Who are you?" Joe asked.

 _"_ _You know us…Fenton Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code_ — _"_

"What are you, a robot?"

 _"_ _Laura Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code...Nancy Drew will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Con Riley will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Vanessa Bender will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code."_

Joe turned red. "Stop it."

 _"_ _James Anderson will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code_ — _"_

James visible baulked at the sound of his name amongst those listed and almost lost grip of his phone. The relentless list marched on:

 _"_ _Everyone he loves will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code..."Joe Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code… Fenton Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Laura Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code_ — _"_

Collig put a heavy hand on Joe's shoulder, leaned to make a throat cut action, encouraged him to hang up.

 _"_ _Nancy Drew will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Con Riley will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Vanessa Bender will die_ — _"_

"GO TO HELL!" Joe cut them off midstream.

"Wowsers!" James hit the save button.

Collig's big hand transferred over to Joe's fingers, trapped the phone and Joe's hand in one mighty grasp. "Don't throw it!" he warned. "One Hardy on the rampage across my office a day's enough." He let go.

Joe pushed the cell at Collig and turned to take a march about the room. He counted down from ten to zero to calm himself. Finally he'd circumvented the space and rejoined the other two.

"Well done, Kid." Collig returned the phone.

"The voice - computer generated. Right?"

"No human qualities," James agreed. "No upward or downward inflection. A delay between each statement.

"The names sound like they were tagged onto the start of a pre-prepared, repeated phrase," Collig agreed.

"So, some pre-recorded, some improvised but all fed into a device and played down the phone, hence the delay?" Joe surmised.

"Sounded that way to me," James agreed.

"Huh." Joe leaned on the table next to James and thumbed the phone again. "I hate doing this but, after the last time and Frank's secrecy." He angled the phone away from his friend and scrolled through Frank's messages. "No text messages from anyone suspicious. Probably their first contact. I guess Frank wouldn't have reacted so badly otherwise." His eyebrows hitched up, "Hmm, not even from Nancy; I don't get it."

"Me neither," James admitted.

Joe looked up and indicated with the phone to Ezra. "Do you think you could trace the call, see who the number's registered to, maybe get a location of origin?"

"We can try."

Joe looked around until he found the pad of sticky-notes on the floor and found a pen in the pile of detritus in the middle of the table. He scribbled down Frank's password and stuck the note to the screen. Collig moved to take it, but Joe held on tight to the other end and looked pointedly up at him. "Make it real plain they don't go poking around on it, it's only the call we need tracing. His private life's just that…private." He didn't let go until Collig dropped his chin in agreement.

Collig left the room.

With hands on hips Joe turned a full circle to take in the state of the office. "Man, what a mess!" he muttered. He wasn't sure if he meant Collig's place of work or their current situation. "If Arthur Gray had been here, he would've been strewn about in pieces rather than Collig's stuff."

"Who's Arthur Gray?"

"Leader of The Network."

James clicked his fingers. "I remember Nancy arguing with him on the phone, in the hospital room, before we went to destroy the memory stick." He looked sideways at Joe, "Talking of hospitals—"

"Whatever I drank wasn't designed to stay in the system for long. I woke up on the ambulance, and they let us out."

Collig walked in briskly and went round to the front of his desk to upright his chair. He stood up and looked about. "This won't do." He surveyed the two young men thoughtfully. "Come on boys let's get this place cleared before your fathers arrive."

"Dad's coming?" Joe asked. "I'm gonna run out on you, I don't want Dad to walk in on this with no warning." He pulled the door open and headed through the bullpen to the outside.

Frank and Vanessa were still to the side of the door but were on their feet, Frank with his hands dug deep in his pockets and Vanessa's arm linked into his. On the floor by their feet, the trophy Frank had slung through the window. Joe raised his eyebrows amazed, it didn't appear damaged.

Frank's face held an intense expression, his eyes dead and vacant. His self-preservation had kicked in and the darkness, usually pushed down, had slithered forth for mental protection. "Arthur Gray's a dead man," he said in a low, controlled voice.

Joe shoved his hands into his jean's pockets. He wasn't about to disagree with him, and considered an offer of help. "Dad's coming," he told him instead.

A vehicle blew its horn briefly and they looked to see Fenton Hardy's car circle the parking lot in search of a suitable spot. Con Riley sat next to him in the passenger seat. He gave them a brief royal wave before pointing to an inappropriate free bay, reserved for a cop car. Joe assumed it had been Con's old spot and habits die hard. The car nosed smoothly into the spot and both men stepped out onto the asphalt and sauntered across.

Their difference in height, when they were side-by-side, made them look ridiculous. Con's six feet four made Fenton's six feet look short in comparison.

Frank bore more than a passing resemblance to his father although even Frank admitted his father's passive face beat his on the handsome front, which fell into the category of intense. His lucky father bore an open and friendly face, more akin to Joe's.

Con had the same coloring as his son, brown hair and hazel eyes, but much taller and broader, not fat, naturally thick set and strong. "Hi chumps," Con called, as he approached. "Where's James?" He and Fenton froze simultaneously and stared at Frank.

"Uh-oh," Fenton said. "My senses are in overload, what's going on?"

Joe waited for Frank to speak, but his brother just held his father's gaze.

"Someone answer me," Fenton insisted, "I don't care who spills," and looked expectantly at them in turn.

Joe answered, "Pandora's back, or rather, the gang who wanted The Key…they're back."

Fenton and Con shared a look and then Fenton turned to Joe and narrowed his eyes. "I don't…understand…what you said. Or at least…I hope I'm not…understanding…what you said."

"Joe's correct," Frank said.

Con splayed his hand on Fenton's back. "This is a joke, right?"

Fenton took another look into Frank's face. "They're not joking," he confirmed and pulled his sons into an embrace.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

The Hardys and Rileys were sat around a large meeting table, in a place known as _Conference Room 1_. With them sat Chief Collig. He and James were unable to get the office tidied in time, so Ezra had opted to evict the gathering already in there, and ordered those folk to take a smaller room, one without coffee facilities. Ezra Collig nothing, if not, practical.

Fenton attempted to eat humble pie with regard to Ezra's trashed office, but didn't want to lose face. "Ezra, send the bill to the agency for damages caused, and we'll compensate you."

Joe dumped another cup of strong coffee in front of Frank, and circled around to the other side of the table. He slipped into the seat next to Vanessa.

Frank jumped in, "Dad, it's my responsibility. Send the bill to me, Chief. It's not as if I didn't get enough financial reward from the government when I dealt with Pandora the first time."

Ezra hadn't allowed Frank to apologize again for what he'd done. The Chief had told him to _'shut the hell up'_ and made a remark about how he appreciated what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder did to a man. If Frank's emotions were to erupt, better it be in a violent but short outburst, than the previous slow-drip of destruction he'd adopted before as a coping mechanism.

Joe then admitted he would've reacted the same way.

Con snorted, "What, you? No way!" He turned to Fenton, "Ever heard the like of it, Flash?"

Frank sniggered.

Fenton gave his son's forearm a squeeze and addressed The Chief, "Ezra, would you like to bring this meeting to order?"

Ezra put his hands over his heart. "Fen, I'm not your boss. The only person I can legitimately order around is young Anderson here, and even he's off the clock."

"In that case, I think we should trust Frank to head this one up and follow his lead," Fenton said.

"Excuse me?" Frank turned to Fenton, nonplussed.

"You agree, don't you Con?"

"Absolutely, Flash."

Fenton turned to Frank. "We always move with our strengths and yours is in planning. No one can argue your resourcefulness pulled us through to the other side last time. You also know more about Pandora than any of us. You're the right person to lead."

Frank shook his head. "And what I knew put me in therapy, and nearly got Joe and Nancy Drew killed. It got crazy back then and I'm willing to bet it'll get even crazier this time. They know what I'm capable of, so they'll try to control me psychologically from the get-go. Can you trust me not to fall off the edge again?"

"Yes. If it wasn't for you before, it would've been a lot worse. This time, we're all on board. We'll find them, and we'll finish them."

"Well said, Mr H," Vanessa said with a nod.

"Right on," said James.

"Go on, Bro!" Joe encouraged.

Frank looked around at the determined faces staring back. "Right then, no pressure. So…erm…why don't I bring everyone up to speed on what's happened, then look at what we can take forward from that?" He looked at Fenton uncertain, but got a nod of encouragement. With a more authoritative tone this time, Frank continued, "Okay, listen up—"

Frank took them through the story, from walking in on a 'burglary', to when he ran into Officer Bach on Shore Road, and, thankfully arrived at Joe's place safely, in one piece, but with a sore head. Then, he told them how he, Joe, Vanessa and James met in the bar. About his encounter with a girl who had unusual eyes and picture perfect hair. A girl so keen to bag her man, she slipped something into his drink, but bagged Joe instead. Finally, he told them about the ambulance which had loitered outside the bar, presumably to spirit him away.

Frank nodded to Collig, who took up the baton to fill them in on how Officer Bach had been discovered, trapped and almost dead in his car, which had been encouraged to launch itself into the air and almost off a cliff, by a stinger strip slung across the road - a booby-trap designed, in all likelihood, for Frank.

At the end, Fenton swore loudly and slammed a palm down onto the table. "What's the reason Con and haven't heard any of this until now?"

"We're telling you _now!_ " Joe answered, "None of us had enough of the pieces to form a true picture." He pointed to himself, " _I_ didn't know the nuances about the stinger strip or the ambulance until now. We knew the way they'd dismantled and tampered with Frank's alarm pad pointed to something more than a robbery, but nothing more than gut feelings."

"That's right," Vanessa agreed. "I saw the ambulance but didn't put two and two together either. Frank worked it out, we didn't."

The conversation broke while Fenton thought about what they'd told him, so Collig jumped in. "Can I ask, so I'm clear as to what we're up against, what is _'Pandora'_ exactly, and why the hell would someone want to commit mass murder for it?"

Frank gave him a potted outline, "She's a—"

"She?"

"Yes, _'she'_. She's a computer program Professor Hope created. An IT genius, and true eccentric, but such an oddball it got him killed. His idea, a brilliant one…to create the ultimate anti-terrorist and hacker software program that, once activated, would spread like a virus and attack any threat to the World Wide Web. He developed Pandora as a self-learning tool, to protect and automatically plug up weaknesses. Unfortunately, Professor Hope hadn't counted on her falling into the wrong hands, to be used for the opposite reason - cyber-terrorism."

"So, you were asked to look after Pandora?"

"Not all of her. Professor Hope created Pandora as a program of two halves. The first appeared as a child's game and sat on gaming sites. The other half, the one I babysat, they called 'The Key' - both harmless on their own unless someone introduced The Key to the net via a USB port. Then it would automatically connect to the Pandora game to become whole - alive. However, to trigger Pandora, they needed an activation code. I found out the code could also be used to destroy her, so I decided to kill the threat completely. I partnered up with Nancy Drew to find it. Nancy Drew has an eidetic memory, I needed it to help me crack the game and get the clues to find the code."

"That's how Miss Drew became involved?"

Frank looked ashamed of himself. "I never should've let her get involved any further, got too emotionally attached." He quickly got off that line of discussion and ploughed on. "The power lies in possessing the Pandora game, The Key, _and_ the code. Have all three in your grasp and you have the ability to control the world. If the Posse are really in possession of the Pandora game and The Key, its little wonder they'll kill to get the code from me."

"And you ultimately held the entire Pandora program in your hands," Collig said.

"No, Nancy Drew did, not me." A haunted look crossed his face and he looked down at the table to break eye contact. "I wasn't getting up off the school roof, out of my mind…no…not _out_ of my mind, trapped _in_ my mind and halfway to dead. If it wasn't for Joe—" he stopped for a beat and then moved on quickly. "Nancy Drew dealt with Pandora."

Collig nodded. "And from what I understand, after Miss Drew killed Pandora she smashed The Key?"

"She did. Arthur Gray persuaded me to look after Pandora for The Network, to keep her safe. He assumed, wrongly, that once I'd run the Posse to ground, he could retrieve the code from them, get The Key back from me, and claim the prize. What he failed to realise…I'm not the good little corporate soldier boy everyone thinks I am."

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Yeah, Joe. I've heard you refer to me like that and you're wrong." Frank looked at Joe for a couple of silent seconds, then released him and continued. "Gray also underestimated Nancy Drew's stubbornness and Joe's tenacity. So although I delivered the Posse into Arthur's hands, he didn't get Pandora. He failed, the Posse failed, I won…a hollow victory."

"I see."

Frank leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms and looked out of the window. "So there you have it."

"Now I appreciate why they'll kill for it."

"Yep."

Everyone watched Frank to the point of it growing uncomfortable. Their intensity made him switch from gazing out the window to looking at them. His eyes tracked from face-to-face. "So, does anyone else—"

Con spoke up, "Why don't you tell us what the Posse said to you on the phone, Junior?"

Frank opened his mouth to answer, but James held up his cell phone. "I can do better than that." He stood, pushed the phone's volume up to its highest and placed it in the middle of the table. "Listen up." He hit 'play'.

They paid attention to the conversation which kicked off with James' voice, _"Andddd…okay, ready. Go for it, Bud,"_ followed by the distinct sounds of Joe's thumbs tap on his phone. The phone rang and someone picked up…a pause…and then a voice recited Frank's name.

Frank moved. He slid his elbows over the table, rested his forehead on his palms and stared at the phone thoughtfully. "That's the voice."

They heard Joe answer the call, but not give his name. Then the unremitted list of the names of the people who would die started. Frank and Joe locked eyes across the table as the voice continued interminably. They heard Joe grow more and more agitated by the content of the conversation, until he reached the end of his tether and bellowed, _"GO TO HELL!"_

James leaned forward and picked up his phone as his own recorded voice uttered a shocked, _"Wowsers!"_ He switched it off.

"Jesus," Fenton said and blew air out of his cheeks. "That's what you contended with the last time, Frank, for all those months?"

"It wasn't an alien tone last time, just straight up threats delivered by a human voice. They've become more sophisticated, or at least it's the impression I get. The voice, it's more…insidious." Frank looked across the table at James. "How did you get the recording?"

"When they phoned you, they didn't withhold their number, so Joe called them back. I used an app to record the conversation."

"To not withhold their number's audacious," Fenton said.

"I think they want to provide me with a way to contact them," Frank surmised. "James, I heard your name included. I'm real sorry. You'd only been doing your job."

"So were you, technically," James said. "Yay me, I'm popular."

Con frowned. "I don't get it. Before, they needed the other half of the program, The Key, so why demand something they've already got?"

Frank paused, dropped one arm onto the table, and turned to Con. "Yes, it's odd."

"They lost it?" Joe suggested.

"The code's too valuable to lose. " Frank chewed his lip. "Perhaps only one of them knew the code, but he's no longer around for whatever reason. But, they don't possess The Key any more either, so why do they even _want_ the code?"

Vanessa cut in, "And Nancy _killed_ Pandora. As soon as Nancy hit the self-destruction command, she died, I saw it happen. Heck, the host sites crashed en-masse. Speaking as a tech-head, it doesn't make sense." Vanessa turned to Collig, "Can you get me a computer with internet access?"

"I'll take you to mine," James offered.

"Cool. Let's go dig." They got up and left the room.

Frank sighed loudly, he'd forgotten to breathe. "I'm going to speak to Arthur Gray, face-to-face, find out what the hell went wrong. Even he should appreciate releasing the Pandora Posse would cause massive problems, and not only for us. Pandora's potentially globally destructive."

"Oh no, NO WAY!" Fenton said. "Not happening; surely you can see it's a bad idea?"

Joe spoke up, "I'm with Dad on this one. For some reason, Arthur's able to influence you, despite your best efforts. You'll be running the northern region of his empire by the time you get back. I think I should meet with him. He won't crawl under my skin like he can you. And can you trust yourself not to tear him apart?"

"You're right," Frank conceded. "You go and see him Joe, but take Con with you. Arthur Gray's a little guy, so someone with Con's stature and the fact Con's an ex-police lieutenant might throw him off balance."

"Good thought."

"Sounds like a plan," Con agreed.

Fenton's eyes rose to the ceiling. "I don't like it. I don't want either of my boys anywhere near that man."

Con laughed, "Roll your eyes all you like, Flash, you decided to put The Frankster in charge. You gotta respect his decisions. I'll be with Joe, nothing's going to happen to him on my watch."

Collig made a horrible, guttural cough to draw attention. "Can I make a suggestion?"

Frank gestured his way.

"Why don't you share the code with someone and water it down. From what's been said, the code's the way to destroy it?"

"And the power to activate her," Frank confirmed.

"Then if more people than you and Nancy Drew know it, anyone could destroy it…her…should they get the opportunity? Unless I'm way off the mark?"

Frank nodded. "You're on the button, and you make perfect sense."

"And it's harder to silence a Chief of Police," Con remarked.

All attention turned to Frank in expectation. He paused, his eyes still, and then they travelled as he thought hard. He frowned, leaned forward on his elbows, and drove his fists into his eye sockets. Eventually he came out and looked confused at Fenton. "I don't know it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's gone." He pressed his finger to his forehead, "I had it right _there_. My mind's blank. It's on the tip of my tongue...but—" He dropped his hand and frowned hard in concentration. "Dammit!" He hit himself in the forehead with the side of his fist. "I've forgotten it."

Joe interceded, "That's not right, Frank. You once told me it's etched on your brain like a tattoo. You said you dreamt about it, sitting at a computer, typing it in over and over. Stop trying to protect us."

Frank shoved his seat back, and got up to pace the room. "It's NOT what I'm doing, Joe! Trust me; I'll not make the same mistake again." He turned to glare out of the window. "The code's not there anymore.

"What about the final two sets of numbers? You and Nan were separated at that point. How did you communicate them to each other?" Joe asked

"We used our prepaid phones. I can't remember Nancy Drew messaging her numbers to me, but I know I sent mine to her!"

"What happened to the phones?" Fenton asked.

"They're back at the office, in the filing cabinet." Frank's face brightened, "Nancy Drew will remember the numbers, she's got an eidetic memory, instant recall."

Fenton opened his jacket and retracted his cell from his inside pocket. "An easy fix for once. Give me her number."

Frank laughed. "Why would I have Nancy Drew's number?" he asked, hands out at his sides.

Collig cut in, "He's right. We've got his phone. My techie's are trying to triangulate the positioning of where the phone calls came from, got their hands full."

"I'm sure Frank can remember it, he phoned her every day on his office phone. Ran up quite a debt."

Frank looked blankly back. "I can't remember it, and it's not on my phone. We're not together, so there's no need for me to keep it."

Silence ensued as they gawped at him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to all those reviewers I've not been able to show my appreciation to in person via messenger. I love reading your feedback. If you are enjoying the story, please do let me know, it gives me such a warm feeling and makes my day to know I've entertained you. Dawn x**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7**

"What do you mean you can't remember Nancy's number, and it's not on your phone?" Joe asked Frank in amazement. "Just how hard did they hit you on the head last night?"

"As I said, we're no longer an item, there's no reason for me to keep it."

"Do you still have Callie's number?"

"Of course I do. What's that got to do with it?"

"Junior! You must know it makes no sense?" Con said. "Why Callie Shaw's number, but not Drew's?"

Frank, feeling pressurized, put his palms up. "Back-off everyone. It probably _is_ to do with the knock to the head. Don't panic, I know how to get the information. If there's one thing I've learned about brains? They're like computers. Get a technician to perform a remote access, and they can download just about anything previously programmed in. I'll sort it."

"You're talking double-dutch." Con turned to the others. "Tell me I'm not the only one here who's confused by what Frank just said?"

"You're not," Fenton said. "Frank, about Callie's number and—"

Frank rode roughshod over his Dad to shut him down. "Let's not worry about that and get practical instead." Frank pointed at his brother, "Joe, get on the phone and find Nancy Drew. Get the code and warn her about the Pandora Posse and the danger she's in. You've got her number, right?"

"Yeah, but don't _you_ want to do it?"

"Me? Why? If you can't get her, try Carson or Hannah - maybe Chief McGinnis. Get her to come here, if you can, or tell her to disappear…whatever works. The Pandora Posse doesn't know for sure she knows the code, but it wouldn't take a genius to work it out. Plus, they may use her as leverage. Out of all of us, Nancy Drew's the most vulnerable."

Joe shot him a perverse look. "You all right, Bro?"

"I am now I can see we're getting a handle on things." Frank turned his attention to Fenton and Con. "There's another couple of issues to sort out pronto."

"What issues?" Fenton asked.

"Mom and Andrea. We need to get them out of Dodge. Fast, quietly and right now. So go and get them and tell them to pack overnight bags and their passports." He turned to Con, "I assume Andrea has an up-to-date passport?"

"She does."

"That's all they'll need. Go together, don't split up.

"I can help you," Collig said. "Bring them here."

"Thanks Chief," Frank said. "Don't pack them off without seeing us kids, or they'll never forgive you."

Joe jumped in, "Ask Andrea to pack a bag for Vanessa too, and don't forget her passport."

Frank shook his head firmly. "Vanessa stays here."

"I want Vanessa to go with them."

"Vanessa _stays_. We need her computer skills, she's the best I know and I wouldn't trust a stranger's help."

"But—"

"No! She works for us now; she's one of the team. You've got to mentally separate Vanessa as your girlfriend from Vanessa your colleague, or it'll drive you crazy. We can't pack her off every time things get hot. She'd hate it and we'd lose her. She's a great asset."

"I don't like it."

"I don't like _anything_ about what's happening, but we have to make the best of it and, as Dad said, play to our strengths. Without Vanessa, we're weakened. Pandora's a computer program and Vanessa's our tech-head."

Fenton patted Joe's shoulder as he and Con left. Joe wasn't happy.

Frank moved to his jacket, which hung over the back of his chair. He pulled a set of keys from his inside pocket and fiddled with them. He shot Joe a look of regret before turning to Ezra. "Can you spare James to get those prepaid phones from the filing cabinet at the agency?" He took his apartment keys off the bundle and handed the other half to Collig. "I can't imagine he's much help to Vanessa, he can barely turn on a PC, let alone dive deep into a program to interrogate the mechanics of it. Tell him to remember the chargers, they're in there with the phones. I pushed 'em down under the hanging files in a plastic bag, top drawer. And for goodness sake, don't let him go on his own. The last thing we want is another Officer Bach on our hands…poor guy." Frank shook his head in regret. "Oh! And tell James to use the rear entrance."

"You make for a good plan, Kid," Collig said and turned to go.

"Wait," Frank said, and pulled his attention back around. "Do you have contacts in Florida and Washington DC who could help us?"

"Yep, why?"

"After you've seen James, can you come back? I need you to find some volunteers to quickly visit the sites where Nancy Drew and I found the sections of code. I don't suppose the plaques Professor Hope left remain, but it's worth a look. If they _are_ still there, they'll need to be taken down and the numbers noted."

"But—" Collig tipped his head and laid a paw on Frank's shoulder. "Son, don't you remember? You asked me to do that months ago."

"Did I?" Frank frowned and then hit himself in the forehead theatrically. "Oh yes, sorry, I forgot. Duh. What happened to the plaques, the code?"

"You asked me to destroy them." Ezra squeezed Frank's shoulder. "The Doc who comes in to assess our perps is here, can she take a look at you? You seem _off_ to me."

"No, I'm fine. I forgot. A lot on my mind."

"I wish you would, Kid. Do it as a favor to me."

"Please Frank." Joe said.

Frank paused at the sound of Joe's voice and, after a couple of considered seconds, relented. "Okay, I'll see her later. But I need to sort some urgent stuff out first."

"Good decision, I'll let her know, have her wait." Collig slapped Frank in the upper arm and sent him shuffling sideways, then left the room.

"Ouch," Frank muttered and kneaded his arm. "I wish he wouldn't do that. It's like a punch! I'll get the Doc to look examine my arm if nothing else."

"So what urgent stuff will you be doing?" Joe asked his brother.

"I need to sort some stuff out and get me a doctor…a head doctor, not a medical doctor."

"Dude, you worry me when you say stuff like that. A _head doctor_?"

"It'll make sense later. See if you can find Nancy Drew, I don't feel comfortable with her out there somewhere and vulnerable. Meet you here as soon as you can."

Joe wanted to continue the conversation, but Frank made it plain he didn't by turning away to pick up the phone. Joe opened the door to leave, but Frank's voice caused him to turn back:

"Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I promise I'll protect Vanessa."

-o0o-

Joe walked out of the room and shut the door. He turned toward the main office area, but pulled up short at finding his Dad waiting.

"Joe," Fenton started, but Con approached and interrupted them.

"James's back in uniform. Ben Wright's going with him to get those phones. They're taking one of the unmarked patrol cars from the underground lot."

"Wise." Fenton nodded and turned to Joe. "Your brother won't purposefully put Vanessa in the firing line. You know that, right?"

"Did it come across I thought he would?"

"Well…yes."

"I didn't mean to. I know Frank wouldn't do something like that. It's my problem not his. I need to wrap my head around working with Van _and_ having her as my girlfriend. I won't let it happen again."

"Bear in mind Frank could've sent her out in the field like us and James, but he's made sure she's office bound."

"I know. It's my issue," Joe repeated. "I gotta go and phone Nancy. Good luck Dad…Con."

"You too, Champ."

"Too old for 'Champ'." Joe entered the main office area and watched through the window as his Dad and Con exited the building. He stayed there until he saw their car disappear out of sight, then fished his cell phone from his pocket and went to find Vanessa. He found her concentrating intensely on a computer screen as her long fingers tapped swiftly against the keyboard. He recognized that look - the _'don't mess with me or you'll get hurt'_ look. He wisely chose not to interrupt. He perched on the edge of the table behind her, selected Nancy's number and waited for it to connect. A few seconds later, her voice mail kicked in and invited him to leave a message. "Hi Nan, can you give me a call back? It's an emergency, probably as bad an emergency as it gets. Call me. Please Nan, whatever happened between you and Frank isn't important, please phone me. Speak to you soon."

Joe disconnected the call and scrolled for Carson Drew, Nancy's father. _'Huh. No Carson Drew._ He considered what to do next and, going through his phone list, he found the number for Hannah Gruen, the Drew's housekeeper and the closest person to a mother to Nancy. _'No idea why I have her number.'_ He shrugged. Stroke of luck or not, he hit the green button and this time the phone barely rang before someone answered.

 _"_ _Hello… hello?"_ asked an excited, female's voice. _"Nancy?"_

"Erm, Hannah? Its Joe, do you remember me? I visited once with—"

 _"_ _Joe? Joseph Hardy? Frank's brother?"_

Joe blinked, she sounded frantic. "Everything okay there, Hannah?"

 _"_ _Wait, wait, Joseph. Please don't hang up."_

"Hannah? Hey Han—" Joe stalled. She wasn't there anymore, her voice replaced by the phone as it dropped forcefully down. He thought he heard her move away. He looked up, expecting to see the rear of Vanessa's head, but she'd spun around on the swivel chair, casually listening to Joe's end of the conversation.

"What going on?" she asked.

Joe shrugged. "Dunno, I…wait...I can hear someone." Sure enough, he heard the sound of running steps and a few soft sounds as someone picked up again. "Hannah?"

 _"_ _Joe? You still there?"_ asked a male voice this time.

"I'm here. Who am I speaking to?"

 _"_ _It's Carson. Is Nancy with you?"_

"Sir, isn't she with you?" Joe almost shook himself. "Sir, what's happened? Don't you know where she's at?"

 _"_ _We've heard nothing from her for two nights. We're worried sick. We've left numerous messages. It's not like her."_

"Why didn't you call us?" Joe asked, tried not to make it sound accusatory. Vanessa now sat next to him, more curious about what happened to Nancy than her computer task.

 _"_ _I thought her and Frank were no longer a couple."_

"What does that have to do… it doesn't mean we don't _care_ about her."

 _"_ _She told us not to call him."_

"Why?"

 _"_ _She didn't want us to bother him anymore."_

"Don't you think it's strange they—" Joe caught himself, decided Frank and Nancy's old relationship had nothing to do with him or Carson. He forced himself back to the original reason for the call. "You sure Nancy's not working undercover? Gone off grid for a while?"

 _"_ _Even when undercover she finds ways to let us know she's all right. This is the longest she's ever been out of touch, at least not by her own volition."_

"What's she working on?"

 _"_ _A case she got through Chief McGinnis. Stolen antiques. He recommended her to an auction house as a good PI, and they hired her. He's not heard from her either."_

"I could be wrong, probably am, but what's happened to Nancy could potentially be linked to something happening here. Let me talk to Chief McGinnis so we can share intel. Try not to worry, we're on the case."

Joe heard a shaky sigh from the other end of the line. _"Thanks Joe. To know you boys are on the case makes me feel a little better. What's happening? What's my daughter's connection?"_

The noise built up behind Joe to reach a rude pitch. He stuck his finger in one ear to carry on his conversation with Carson. His brain tripped up to try to think of an explanation which wouldn't cause wide swept panic in the Drew household. "It's an old case we investigat—" Then he saw the look on Vanessa's face, her eyes wide as saucers as she looked over his shoulder. He turned and saw officers run backward and forward, strapping themselves into body armor and readying weapons. "What the…?"

Collig moved about them and shouted orders to, _"Get out there boys, pronto!"_ as a sea of blue stampeded for the doors.

Joe's phone arm dropped slightly as he forgot about Carson for the moment. "What's going on, Chief?"

"Police business, I'll tell you later," Ezra said dryly. He glared sideways at Joe and returned to his trashed office.

 _"_ _JOE!"_

Carson's yell reawakened Joe's awareness. He pulled the cell to his ear. "Sorry Sir, got distracted. An old case has reared its head, a case Nancy helped us with, and some strange stuff's going down. I wanted to check something with her, a detail. Try not to worry. I'll speak to Chief McGinnis. I'm sure between us, we'll figure out where she is. She's most likely following a fascinating lead, lost track of time. If she's on a case in River Heights, I can't see what connection it can have to ours."

 _"_ _You're probably right. Will you keep us in the loop?"_

"Goes without saying. I'll speak to you soon, Sir. Pass on my love to Hannah."

 _"_ _I will. Bye Joe and say hello to your Dad."_ Carson hung up.

"What's happened?" Vanessa asked.

"Nancy's AWOL. Gone for two days."

"No!" her hands flew to her mouth.

Joe put his arms around her waist. "Doesn't mean anything happened to her. She's one of the smartest people I know. If she got one single sniff of something Pandora related, she will have gone to ground. I need to speak to Chief McGinnis and find out what she's investigating, something antique related apparently, but we need details."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for the great reviews. I'm really enjoying your insights, observations and questions. I think from the questions posed so far that I'll satisfy your reading needs. Had a question from a guest asking if Nancy would be put in danger in this story?...Read on...Read on... :-)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8**

Fenton and Con left the building, chose not to loiter, and strode directly to their car.

"We should get Laura first," Con said to Fenton over the roof of the car. "She's closer to Frank and Andrea's name wasn't included on the death list." He opened the door and folded into the passenger seat.

Fenton dropped in next to him. "Andrea falls into the category of _'everyone who Frank Hardy loves'._ She wasn't involved in the original case, no need for them to have included her."

"James wasn't involved either." Con bent and pulled on the seat's adjuster lever so the seat slid back to maximize his leg room. "He wasn't any more involved than Ezra and the rest of the squad. He just accompanied us to Andrea's house when Nancy destroyed Pandora."

"There you have it."

"Then why isn't Andrea on the death list? I hid her in the bathtub."

"Exactly. Hiding. Not in the thick of it."

"They don't know that. They don't even know what James did in there. We rumbled with The Network, not The Posse."

Fenton paused, his seatbelt buckle in his grasp. "True," he said thoughtfully. He fastened the belt with a click. "Strange. Maybe they value James as a close friend of Frank's? No, scratch that. Chet, Biff and Tony would've been included if that's the case." He turned the engine over. "I don't have an explanation." He looked behind him, palmed the car into gear and reversed out of the space. "Seatbelt, Con."

Con complied. "Other aspects make squat sense too."

"I agree." Fenton took the car around the parking lot, and braked at the barrier. He waited until it rose and rolled the car forward. He spotted a gap in the traffic and nosed out on to Main Street. "The Pandora Posse went after Frank the first time, purely for the memory stick. They already had the code."

"Your boy and Nancy wanted to destroy Pandora and it's the only reason they went after the code," Con agreed. He stared at the outside scenery, and watched the door mirror.

"Without the memory stick, which we know Nancy crushed, they can't activate the program even _with_ the code. So what's changed? What could they have set in place locked up in a high security facility?"

Con sat up straighter. "I'll tell you another thing that's changed."

"Mmm?"

"Frank's memory. It's eerie how he can't remember the code. Then there's his reaction when you asked for Nancy's number, as though _you_ were the irrational one, and not _him_."

"More than weird," Fenton agreed, and checked out the rear view mirror.

"And since when did Frank start to refer to Drew purely by her full name? _'Nancy Drew'…_ cold. even if she _is_ an ex-girlfriend. Why would a knock to a head only remove the Pandora code and alter his perception of Drew?"

"Uh-huh," Fenton agreed. His gaze hadn't left the mirror.

"You spotted them too?"

"About two minutes ago. They're not very good. The way they're weaving through traffic…they couldn't make themselves more noticeable if they tried."

"Don't you just hate amateurs?"

"You know what I hate more than amateurs?"

"What?"

"Amateurs with firearms."

"Huh?"

Fenton spun the wheel with the heel of his hand and attempted to urgently edge around a vehicle in front, but the driver, with a rude gesture, moved to block him. "Damn it!" Fenton muttered and slapped the steering wheel. They were hemmed in.

Frustratingly, no cars were now behind them for any great distance, the road empty of traffic - except for the black car with darkened windows that had followed them since they left the precinct. It gained rapidly on them, just as the traffic beside them rolled forward to leave a car length gap beside them.

Con swivelled around, and watched as the driver accelerated and began to cruise up beside their car. Then he saw what Fenton had spotted - the dropped passenger window with an arm out and a gun gripped in its hand, aimed in Fenton's direction. "Watch yourself Flash!"

"Thanks, Zarkov!" Fenton slammed the car into reverse.

Their opponent driver were left with little time to react as they sailed on by, but the gunman did attempt a quick shot, but missed.

Fenton carried on their backward trajectory to distance his car even further from their attackers. He fishtailed to make them a moving target.

The dark car skidded to a halt, and the gunman switched direction to take another pot-shot. The bullet ricocheted off the grill on Con's side.

Con and Fenton ducked. Their car continued to hurtle rearward as Fenton half blindly watched the road through the gap between their seats. He relied on the fact he'd seen no other traffic so close behind that they would hit anyone. Then another bullet hit. It smashed through the windshield and ripped a hole in Con's headrest. The next bullet hit almost simultaneously in the same spot, and the headrest detached to disappear into the rear of the car. They felt the car drop to one side and the engine stalled.

"Get into the back!" Fenton ordered, shifted into neutral and restarted the car.

Con unclipped his seat belt and pulled himself urgently and clumsily through the gap between their seats - a difficult stunt for a six feet four man, but he successfully scrambled onto the back seat. Lying down should have felt safer, if not for the bullets thudding across the back seat rest in search of him. "Fen, get this tank MOVING!" Con shouted. He heard the gears grind and the engine rev, but sensed no propulsion in any direction.

"I'm trying. Nothing's happening!" Another bullet entered the interior of the car through the windscreen. "CRAP!" Fenton screamed.

"I don't want to hear 'crap'!"

"Can't get the damn transmission out of neutral."

Con lifted to see Fenton jerk his fist, the hand gripped hard on the top of the gear shift. Con half dived through the gap and shoved Fenton's hand to one side. He used his greater strength and weight to bear down, and force the stick into first. A hole ripped through the back of the passenger seat. The slug barely missed his leg, and corkscrewed into the backseat along with the others. "WHOA!" Con jammed his hand on Fenton's knee and drove his partner's foot down on the gas. The car shot forward.

"Con, for _pity's sake_ , what are you doing?" Fenton shouted.

"Ramming speed, Flash!"

Fenton set his jaw, moved up the gears, and drove straight for the other car. The car picked up speed as he went. The powerful engine screamed as injured metal ground against injured metal. Despite his blindness due to the tangled nature of his shattered windshield, Fenton could discern enough of the general shape of the dark car to judge it's location and distance from them. He went for it.

Their assailants, on the other hand, found themselves at a distinct disadvantaged. Unable to see Fenton, they knew now they'd antagonized him to the point of using the car as a ton and a half battering ram. A battering ram a gun will never be able to protect them from. They could shoot and kill Fenton, but it wouldn't stop the car smashing them to smithereens.

The gunman or woman attempted one last, desperate shot, in the hope of hitting something alive, but the bullet passed between Con and Fenton, and exited out the rear window.

At the last second, Fenton turned the car and slammed it sideways into the trunk of the other vehicle. Fenton hoped the manuever would cause less damage to Con than hitting nose first. He'd hopefully remain in the confines of the car, and not be tossed out onto the highway.

The jarred impact threw them sideways, deployed the airbags and saved Fenton's head from hitting anything solid. It failed to save him from suffering the burn of the seatbelt pull tightly to hold him securely into his seat. The front passenger window instantly spiderwebbed, but stayed within the confines of the window frame.

Con became dislodged, by the force of the impact, from his cushioned position between the seats. Suddenly on the back seat again, his feet, followed by his legs, slammed into one of the rear doors.

An eery silence fell for a few seconds, until an ear-splitting whirl of police sirens and braking cars punctuated it. Shouts came next, and the sounds of heavy footsteps "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!" one of Con's ex-colleagues yelled, as several figures dashed by the remains of Fenton's car.

"CON?" Fenton yelled.

"I'm still here."

"Wow."

"You in one piece?"

"I think so, you?"

"Ditto."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Nothing serious."

Con sat up and looked at Fenton who lay across the front seats as he scrabbled about in the glove box. "I'm getting out," Con said, and attempted to open the door closest to him, forced it with his shoulder. Finally, he realized, in his uncoordinated state, he'd tried to open the door jammed up against the assailant's crippled vehicle. He switched direction, slid across to the other door and tried the other door. It opened easily.

He stepped out, but abruptly tumbled down onto his forearms on the highway; his lower limbs unable to support his weight. The door swung over his head and automatically clicked shut behind him. He knew his legs weren't busted, but they were numb and needed to recover. He rested there for several seconds before he attempted to get up. He found himself unable to get further than a seated position. _"I'm too old for this,"_ he thought mirthlessly, and slumped back.

The driver's door opened slowly and a leg edged out. A foot tentatively toed and tested the ground before a second leg followed. They were joined by Fenton's entire body as it slid to the ground, one hand clutching the door. Fenton's breath sounded labored, like Con's.

They found their wrecked car sandwiched on three sides by squad cars - armed police officers using their cars as barricades while simultaneously aiming guns warily in every direction. They were positioned mere feet from the two men. No way would the gunman now get at either Fenton or Con without inviting the full, returning fire of half of Bayport's finest. The Pandora Posse had made a tactical blunder by taking out Officer Bach, one of the Bayport Police Department's extended family members.

Con burst into laughter and he and Fenton glanced in relief at one another. Fenton let go of the door to offer his hand up, and Con slapped palms with him. Fenton held a cloth pressed to his head, evident from the stains on his shirt that blood had been freely running down his cheek and neck. "I've got a splitting headache," Fenton said, and half grinned at his own bad joke.

Con stopped laughing. His eyebrows shot up. "Fen?"

"I think the last bullet skinned me."

Inexplicably, James appeared along with Ben Wright who urgently crouched beside them. James eased the cloth from Fenton's head to inspect the wound…then, slapped it back down quickly. "It' gonna need stitches," he said. "Keep the pressure on Mr H, and I'll get a first aid kit. We've radioed for medical assistance. You okay, Dad? You face planted out the car!"

"And so would you, if you'd been trapped in an enclosed space getting sprayed with hot lead. I'm fine."

"Wait there. Don't move Mr H."

"No need for—"

"Don't underplay this, Flash. Stay still!" Con warned as James left quickly.

James returned and applied another compress to the top of the handkerchief Fenton had used. "Don't take the first one off, or it will start pouring."

"How come you two are here?" Con asked.

Ben explained. "We were behind you. Radioed it in. Made sure you had room to back up."

James shook his head, "The scariest thing I ever saw in my life, and some of the best action scenes outside of a movie!"

Con laughed. "It's like that for Fen and me every day, eh Flash?"

"It's one non-stop thrill-fest. What are we doing to do about Laura and Andrea? We need to get them out of here. Frank didn't exaggerate, it's already gotten crazy."

"Don't worry, I'll deal with them. I'm not the one with a hole in the head and blood pouring down my face."

"Not on your own, Con."

Con indicated to the squad cars with a sweeping action. "Take in the scene of beauty, Flash. I'm gonna travel in style with a fully armed escort, as _you_ will on the way to the hospital. Here comes the ambulance." Con turned to James, "Make sure it's the real deal before you let Fenton on. Help me up; I'm on a mission of mercy."

-o0o-

The unmarked car in which Con rode, pulled up outside the Hardy residence, along with the escort vehicle.

He climbed out and moved to the back of the car. Seconds later, the driver and two cops from the other vehicle joined him. They huddled and held a short confab, which resulted in two of the officers jog around to the rear of the house. Con and their remaining colleague stepped up to the front door.

The cop turned his back and visually scanned the street for signs of danger, one hand rested on his firearm.

Con rapped on the Hardy's door and stepped back. Seconds later, the entrance opened and Laura emerged, surprised.

"Con, lovely to…look at the _state_ of you!" Then she saw the armed officer guarding her door, and the two squad cars idling against the curb. "What's going on?"

"No time to explain." Con stepped into the house, pushed Laura in and shut the door behind him.

"CON!" she protested at his manhandling. She slapped his hands down.

"Laura, time's of the essence. You need to pack a bag quick and grab your passport." He took her by the elbow and frogmarched her up the stairs.

"What? Why? Where's Fenton?"

"The hospital."

"What!? Stop - stop - will you stop - STOP!" She grabbed the handrail and planted her feet. "STOP RIGHT NOW, DO YOU HEAR ME CONSTANTINE RILEY?"

Con lost his grip on her arm and almost tripped on the next tread. He turned and saw the look on her face. He realized his heavy-handedness had gotten the better of him. "Sorry Laura. I'm panicking."

"Be calm and tell me what's going on. Why's Fenton in the hospital?"

"If I say the name _'Pandora'_ , will it make you save your questions until we get you to the Police Precinct?"

Laura's eyes widened, "Yes it will." She clattered by him and tore up the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

**So sorry everyone! I managed to put up the wrong chapter last night. Some of you may have read the next chapter before this one. Thank you Max, but being such a smarty pants as to spot my deliberate error - 100 points to him. :-)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9**

The darkening of the sky helped to obscure the approach of James and Officer Ben Wright, as they stepped up to the rear of the office complex which housed the Hardy, Riley & Son's detective agency.

After the Pandora Posse's attempt to gun down Fenton and Con, the two cops were on high alert. Their holsters were unclipped and their hands rested on their weapons, ready for a fast draw if required. They were in full combat fatigues, nothing left to chance.

They found themselves faced with a door constructed predominantly of wood, with a glass window in the top, glazed with reinforced, obscured glass. They looked at one another, and by unspoken agreement, James ducked down and scooted under the window. He kept going until he could raise himself with his back tight against the wall without alerting anyone inside to his presence. He took his gun from its holster and readied himself with it, as did Ben.

They eyeballed one other. Ben raised his free hand and splayed his fingers to count down from five to zero. They nodded in time as each finger closed. On the _'zero'_ James pushed down on the door handle and threw the door open. Ben turned into the hallway, and held his gun out, his right hand balanced on top of his left as he visually scanned the corridor. James spun in a second later. "CLEAR!" Ben yelled.

At the sound of Ben's instruction, the front door opened at the other end of the corridor and two more cops stepped in. They began to systematically work their way through the first floor, knocking on doors and trying door handles until they confirmed there were no occupants in any of the ground floor rooms.

One officer peeled off and moved to the rear door to stand outside on guard duty, while his partner looked out the front window, positioned to the side to survey the street for trouble. James and Ben made their way quickly up the stairs.

They moved from door-to-door to ensure no people were on the second floor either. No surprise on a Sunday they found every room empty and locked. Finally they reached the Hardy, Riley & Son's Detective Agency. Stationed either side of the door, Ben and James listened for sounds from within but couldn't detect anything.

James carefully turned the door handle and found the door locked solidly. He holstered his weapon, took the keys Frank had given him and began to open up. The door unlocked easily and they walked inside.

James found the office as he expected to find it. On the other side of the door, the larger half of the agency housed Frank, Joe and Vanessa's desks. Also in the room, a tiny kitchenette which held a basic coffee making area and a small refrigerator - a large enough space for two desks comfortably, but with the addition of a third, tight, or, _'Comfy'_ as Joe described. Vanessa had been asked to find them new premises, but hadn't had luck in checking off all the items on Fenton's ever growing wish list.

On the wall to the right of the door, hung a newly installed, interactive white board courtesy of Vanessa, a replacement for the archaic, underused, cork notice board. Fenton and Con's desks were in a smaller room, off to the side of the larger one, their desks on either side of the only window and positioned to face one another.

"Ben, will you keep an eye out the window?" James asked as he holstered his weapon. He went and retrieved the key chain from the door and shut it. He then headed toward Frank's pristine desk, and the filing cabinet, while he fished for the small cabinet key.

Ben positioned himself to the side of the window and peered out.

James' fingers lit upon the tiny key so he shoved it into the lock and yanked open the top drawer. Inside he found a long row of files bearing imaginative and wild titles for the various cases the agency had worked on. The titles looked like Joe's handy work with ludicrous names like _"The Sinister Signpost"_ , _"The Voodoo Plot"_ and the especially funny _"The Bombay Boomerang"_. James laughed. He would have liked to go through the lot, but he knew he couldn't dally. He plunged his arm between _"The Tower Treasure" and "The Missing Chums",_ delved about the bottom of the drawer and found the phone chargers. The leads were neatly woven and tied off - clearly Frank's work. He set them on top of the cabinet and dived back in. This time his hand didn't find anything the entire bottom of the drawer seemed empty.

He must have sighed audibly because Ben asked, "Whassup, man?"

"I can't lay my hands on the cell phones. Frank described where they were so exactly and knowing him, if the chargers were there then the phones should be too." He tucked his thumbs into his belt thoughtfully. "Is it still clear outside?"

"All quiet."

"I'm taking the files out." James leaned into the drawer, lifted a handful of records and laid them onto the floor, then pulled out more and stacked those on top. It soon became obvious the drawer wasn't hiding any phones. They simply weren't there.

Undeterred, James re-hung the files and moved through the other drawers, but found nothing more than the odd paperclip. "They've gone," he admitted. "Or Frank didn't put them where he thinks he did." He turned to Ben. "Let's get back to HQ. I'm having zero luck here."

Ben agreed and came away from the window.

James locked the cabinet, turned away to follow his partner, but then froze as something occurred to him. He frowned at Ben, about faced, unlocked the cabinet and slid the drawer open once more. He began to flick through each case file, systematically reading each title as he flipped, not wanting to believe one glaring absence until he reached the last. "Well, hot diggity!"

 _The Pandora case papers were as conspicuous by their absence as the phones!_

-o0o-

James arrived safely at the precinct, and went through to the locker room with his buddies. He unburdened himself of his Kevlar vest, made his weapon safe and locked it up. Only then did he head to _Conference Room 1_ and back to Frank's team.

He reached the door and pushed through to find Frank sat bolt upright in his chair while the Doctor, who usually attended when a suspect needed to be declared medically fit, shone a light into his eye. "Oops, sorry!" James spluttered, embarrassed, and backed out to leave them alone.

"It's okay," Frank said and waved James in. "We're about done. How do I look, Doc?"

She shrugged. "I can't see how the bump to your head could have been hard enough as to cause the symptoms The Chief describes. But given your history, perhaps I'm not the right type of doctor you should be consulting."

"Pretty much what I thought." Frank said. "Thanks though."

The doctor dropped the light into her pocket and left the room.

"Hi Chum," James greeted, and took the chair opposite. He tipped his head curiously.

Frank offered an explanation. "Ezra and Joe insisted the Doc have a look at me. She couldn't find anything physically wrong though."

Joe and Vanessa followed next with Collig two steps behind, Frank's phone in hand and his mouth set in a tight line.

"We have news, I—" Vanessa started, but Frank interrupted her.

"Wait until everyone gets here, saves going over the same ground. The Doc didn't find anything wrong with me, by the way."

"Didn't she?" Joe asked.

"Where you hoping she would?" Frank asked with a wry smile.

"Good. Put it down to stress," Collig said. "Frank, we may have to push on without Fenton once Con gets back with Laura and Vanessa's mother, as there's been an incident."

"Chief! Didn't you tell them?" James asked, aghast.

"Tell us what?" Frank asked.

"This 'incident'," Joe asked suspiciously, "Did it involve a militia of cops in Kevlar vests loaded to the gills with enough weaponry as to take on a small army? The 'militia' I asked you about?"

"I didn't want to panic either of you. They were involved in an attempted drive by shooting involving their car. Con's uninjured but Fenton' been taken to the hospital with a minor head wound."

 _"_ _What?"_

"Chief!" James snappily interrupted. "With all due respect, Sir, to describe it as a drive by shooting, it's…no…war zone is how I'd describe it. It's a wonder either of them came out the other side alive!" It wasn't like James to become so irritated, especially not with his boss, who he admired, but what he'd witnessed had unnerved him. Collig's stoicism on this occasion had annoyed him. "You agreed Frank's leading on this investigation. That means letting go and being open."

"What happ—" Vanessa started, but Collig talked over her.

"Tread carefully Anderson! There's a fine line between plain speaking and insubordination." Collig glared down his nose at James from his standing position.

James didn't back down this time. He crossed his arms and stared back just as levelly.

Frank half rose, slammed his fist down onto the table and snapped Collig's attention around. He started to say something, but Frank waggled a finger to silence him. "Can we agree everyone's allowed to speak their minds while in this room? Leave rank at the door, it's not helpful and things are tense enough."

Everyone silenced and waited for Ezra to explode. He didn't. He shrugged his massive shoulders and sat down instead. He placed Frank's phone carefully on the table in front of him.

Frank exhaled and leaned his hands on the table top. "Bear in mind James' name has been included on the death list and Con's his father. He has as vested an interest in this as any of us. Being a Bayport cop is of small consideration to him right now. And please, Ezra, don't start withholding information, it's destructive. Trust me, I know."

Collig's eyebrows dropped and the tension went out of his shoulders. "You're right…Anderson's right. I apologize," he said. "Sometimes I forget you're no longer kids."

"Sorry if I overstepped the mark, Sir," James said.

Collig went to whack him on the shoulder. It seemed he considered it a fatherly gesture, but it hurt…a lot! James predicted his intent and kicked the chair away on its wheels to avoid the stinging blow. A sharp pop happened, and dust particles hit James full in the face. Vanessa screamed and everyone moved on a downward trajectory. _"What the—"_ James started to say and swiped at his eyes, but then all at once The Chief manhandled, and tipped his chair down to the ground. James hit hard and, through watery eyes, saw the underside of the table and Frank crawling toward him.

"Did you get hit?" Frank demanded to know forcefully.

"By what?" James asked, trying to blink the dust away. Finally it dawned on him what had caused the strange noise and powder spurt. A slug had entered the room, and thudded into the drywall right by where his head had been before he'd thrust his seat back. "No, it missed!"

 _"_ _Everyone out and keep low,"_ Collig bellowed.

James tried to extricate himself from the chair but ridiculously found his jacket pinned on one side between the floor and the back support, and his sleeve on the other side hooked on the arm. He couldn't pull himself free - as good as tied down. He wasn't making a good show of himself! _'Clumsy idiot!'_

He looked to see Joe snatch up for the door handle, and pull it wide. A bullet thudded into the drywall to the side, and Joe pulled his arm quickly clear. He turned to reach for Vanessa but Collig beat him to it. He scooped her up and threw her though the doorway before him and Joe quickly followed.

On top of him now, Frank pried James' arm free, and then James half lifted himself so Frank could release the jacket. _"Out, now!"_ Frank shouted and James scrabbled. Once on the other side of the door, he dropped over onto his back in time to see Frank take the chance of snatching his phone from the table. Then Frank dove through the doorway himself.

Joe, on his belly, reached through, grabbed the side edge of the door, and pulled it with a yank. It slammed shut even as Frank landed next to James and the _Mission Impossible_ theme tune belted out on his cell.

Frank hit the answer button and pressed the cell to his ear, "WHAT!?" he bellowed.

 _"_ — _will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Fenton Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code...Laura Hardy will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code...Nancy Drew will die if Frank Hardy does not give us the code…Con Riley will die if Frank Hardy does not give_ — _"_ The message marched relentlessly on.

-o0o-

"YOU SON'S OF BITCHES! YOU'RE SCREWING WITH THE WRONG GUY!" Frank bellowed, cut the call off mid-stream, and growled at the screen.

The Posse's intention clearly wasn't to hurt _him -_ his back had been fully exposed through the window as they'd aimed at James. They'd even continued to try and gun James down, even after Ezra had moved him out of range. They basically didn't care who they hurt, so long as it wasn't Frank.

Frank got up off the floor and turned to Chief Collig, "I've got to get everyone out of here."

"No need for that Son, we can protect you."

Frank offered his hand to James and hauled him to his feet. "You okay?"

"I'm alive, Buddy."

Frank turned back to The Chief. "Ezra, no offence but this is a cop shop and they tried to gun Jimmy down through your meeting room window!"

"Nearly got me too," Joe said.

"Bro?"

Joe shrugged and went to check Vanessa.

Frank tipped his head at Collig. "I rest my case."

The Chief conceded Frank's point. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

"Yes."

"What do you need?"

Frank glanced around at the others, to calculate mentally. "I need three unmarked cars…no _four_ with sizable trunks, and trusted drivers. I need to retain the use of two of the vehicles. I don't want any cars used today, or at least none that have been out on the public highway. Can you help us? I can pay, I have money. It's not an issue."

"Frank," Joe interrupted. "What are you talking about?"

"Trust me, Joe. Get ready to go, we're leaving." He turned expectantly to The Chief.

Ezra nodded, "Don't worry about the money. If you bring to justice whoever tried to do for Bach, you can wreck the cars as far as I'm concerned."

Frank's phone rang again. He swore, switched it to silent and pocketed it. "I'm taking James; it's not safe here for him. He's better off with us until this is over." It wasn't a request. Clearly his plan included taking James, whether Collig approved or not. Out of courtesy, Frank asked James. "That okay with you?"

"I guess, if The Chief approves."

Collig looked at his subordinate and scratched his nose thoughtfully. "Consider yourself temporarily promoted to the rank of Detective." A beefy palm came down on James' shoulder. "Congratulations, Anderson, you're going deep undercover. Make me proud."

James' eyes went wide.

"You earned it. I had you pegged anyway, but this tipped the balance. We'll talk more when you get back." Ezra half grinned, and turned to Frank. "I'll meet you down in the basement parking lot," he said and left.

Frank moved to the elevator and hit the call button. "C'mon on guys," he said. "Leave your phones."

"Why?" Joe asked.

"Because it'll give the Posse the impression you're still here. No doubt they're tracking your movements; in fact, I'm _convinced_ they are given how they've targeted us so far. It'll buy us time."

"This feels out of control," Vanessa said.

"And that's good because the Posse won't see it coming."

James hadn't moved, shocked, and still staring in the direction Collig had left.

"James!" Frank said, but he didn't hear so Frank pulled him by the arm. "Pal, we've got to move. Leave your phone."

"Yeah," he said and joined them. "Yeah, of course."

They piled their phones up by the side of the elevator as the doors began to slide open to reveal Con, Laura and Andrea on the other side. The two ladies pulled small travel cases on wheels, and with Con, Rebel, his deaf German shepherd, ex-police dog. Con moved to step out but Frank pushed him back and used his legs to block Rebel from exiting. "Give me your phones," he ordered and transferred his hand to hold the door open.

"What, why?"

"Just do it," Joe said.

"But what's going on?" Con asked, and relinquished his cell to Joe, along with Laura and Andrea.

"What's Dad's ETA?" Frank asked.

"On his way back. Why, what's going on?" Con repeated.

Joe added the three phones to the other cells. Then they piled into the tight space of the elevator and headed for the basement. "I'm not sure what's happening but I'm enjoying watching Frank make Ezra eat out of his hand."

"We're disappearing," Frank said.

"Why?"

"Because they're trying to kill you to get at me."


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Con, Andrea and Laura took it in turns to exchange bemused looks. Their faces said they understood Frank's need to protect them, but they didn't understand his actions, where they were going, or why the rush.

"Where are you taking us?" Con asked on their behalf.

"Mom and Andrea are taking a car to the airport." Frank pulled an envelope out of his pocket and gave it to Laura. "Go to the Jetsky desk and give them this. They'll put you on a privately hired jet and it's going to take you somewhere. From there disappear - hire another private plane if you want. Where you go's up to you, but be random, and don't stay in America. Don't use Jetsky twice."

Frank fished his wallet from his inside pocket, and from within extracted a credit card which he handed to Laura. "There's more than enough money on this to fund a trip for a few weeks. Buy yourselves new phones and send me the numbers; prepaid, not contract." His fingers returned to his inside pocket and he swapped his wallet for a pen and took Laura's hand. "Don't stay for too long in one place, be nomadic." He scribed onto her palm. "If you run out of cash, phone this number and give them this password. They'll make a money transfer."

Laura stared at her palm in confusion. "Slow down, Frank. Where are the funds coming from? Surely your reward money won't last that long?"

"Me, I'm rich."

Laura looked up at him, and laughed, but he held her gaze so she stopped. "What do you mean?"

"Drop me a message as you board so we know you're safe."

"What about the rest of you, where are you going?"

"A safehouse."

The elevator shuddered to a halt and the door slid open to reveal four stationary cars outside.

"What safehouse?"

"Can't say."

A squad car entered the parking area and swung around behind the fourth car. The door opened and Fenton climbed out. "A welcoming party?" he asked. He still wore the same shirt on with the large blood stain. They stared at it.

"How's the head, Flash?" Con asked.

"Four stitches," he said, and bent so everyone could see the repair work close to his natural parting. "They did a full CT scan, no bullet fragments in there. It skimmed me, all blood and no substance." Laura walked into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Get ready for feeling like your head's opening up again," Con said and snaked his arm about Andrea's waist. "Frank's taking us to a safe house. Andrea and Laura are being flown away in a private hire jet, courtesy of Frank."

"Eh?"

Collig appeared at Frank's shoulder. "We're ready for you, Lad."

Frank strode to the first car, leant below the steering wheel and popped the trunk. He walked across to the back and opened it wide. "Sorry Mom…Andrea, but get in."

Laura pulled away in shock. "Oh no, I'm not getting in a trunk," she said and looked to Fenton for support.

"Is this really necessary?" Fenton asked.

"Given the fact practically everyone has already been shot at, I'd say getting the hell out of Dodge is our number one priority."

"Everyone?" Con asked.

"The chose James as the main target, but when they missed him, had Joe in their sites instead. It's pure luck Jimmy still has a head."

"Son?"

"I'm fine, Dad. Honestly."

"Well, I'm getting in the trunk," Andrea said. "After what happened with Claud, I'm happy to. I don't want to be shot at again and roughed up."

Fenton's brain processed what Frank told him, and appreciated the urgency of the situation. "Laura, you're getting in the trunk," he said and put his hand on her neck to bury his fingers in amongst her blonde hair. "Frank knows what he's doing."

Laura moved to cup Frank's face. "Will you all be safe?"

"What I'm doing will make us as safe as it's ever going to get. Please, Mom, I can't be worrying about you two."

Andrea stepped forward and took Laura by the hand. "This is happening so we may as well go with it. To be honest, I think we're getting the better end of the deal."

Laura sighed, "Fine."

Their driver took their bags and sandwiched them between the front and back seats of the car. Laura and Andrea moved from child-to-child and then to their respective men-folk to give hugs and kisses. Laura allowed Fenton to help her into the trunk, while Con swept Andrea up into his arms. He whispered something that made her smile, laid her inside the car next to Laura, and stepped back.

"We'll see you soon," Fenton said. He gave Laura one last embrace and then closed the lid down. "I hope you really do know what you're doing, Frank," he said tight lipped.

"Trust me, I do." Frank pushed his palm out. "Give me your phone."

"I don't believe this," Fenton muttered and turned it over.

Frank slipped the phone into Collig's top pocket and said, "Send Mom and Andrea to the airport, Ezra. Please make sure their driver stays with them until they board."

Collig gave the driver the instruction and asked him to be careful and wary of being followed, and let the car go.

While Ezra satisfied his role as Chief, Frank fished his own cell phone out. He manually keyed in a number and pushed the receiver to his ear. "Pandora's out of the box…six of us…thank you." Then he disconnected.

"Who you talking to?" Fenton asked.

Frank ignored him and waved Collig's specially selected and trustworthy officers together. "Do you know the Morton farm?"

They nodded.

"It's where I want you to take us, to the road which runs along the uncultivated land at the rear of the park. Do you know where I mean?"

Another round of nods.

"Say if you're not sure. I don't want to lose anyone en-route." He waited a few seconds but no one broke their gaze or spoke up. "Don't drive in a convoy, split up, don't use your radios or phones…and be careful you're not followed. I don't want any chatter over the police band, okay?"

"Any of you use your radios and I'll bounce your heads!" Collig warned.

They nodded again, even more emphatically this time.

Trunks were popped and the men and Vanessa gathered with Chief Collig.

Con regarded Rebel and then looked to Collig but Frank pre-empted him. "Rebel's to come with us. I think he could be useful. Definitely a bonus you bought him along. Let's go. James, you're with me, I need to speak to you."

Con opened the rear door of one of the cars to encourage Rebel to get onto the seat but Frank stopped him. "Do you think he would tolerate travelling in the trunk? You may have been seen driving into the building with him and I don't want anything to give us away."

"I can keep him calm."

"This is getting better and better," Fenton moaned.

"Let's roll out," Frank said.

Joe helped Vanessa into the third car, got in to spoon with her, and the lid clunked shut.

Frank and James climbed into the front car and laid down, head to toe. Collig leaned in and took Frank's hand firmly in his.

"You can get me on my phone if you need to," Frank said. "Please don't try to find us."

"Good luck, Frank, and you, Detective Anderson," Ezra said and let go of Frank's hand.

Frank and James were then plunged into darkness as their door slammed down. They listened to Collig's distant voice bid farewell to Fenton and Con and then the thump of a trunk closing. Frank strained to listen for dog barks but Rebel stayed silent. Then their own car rocked gently as their driver got in, and the engine rumbled into life. The car rolled forward, and gradually picked up speed.

They lay there for a while in silence.

"What just happened?" James asked. "Did The Chief make me an interim Police Detective?"

"That all you got? Following this whole experience, _that's_ your big question?" Frank laughed softly. "Congratulations, Pal."

"Thanks. I don't know why though. Collig must find me a pain in the neck to work with, I know Dad did. I'm always arguing with him."

"The Chief doesn't want senior officers who agree with everything he says - he _wants_ his decisions challenged, he respects people who do. He doesn't want automatons. Why do you think Joe and I aren't scared to contradict him?"

"Oh."

"You don't get claustrophobic, do you?"

"Dunno. I've never been locked in a trunk. Buddy, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"I do. I feel I need to impress on you the gravity of what you're getting into. Don't feel you have to help us out by some warped sense of loyalty. If you want to, you can put your feet up and let us get on with it. It's not your fight. You shouldn't have even registered on the Posse's radar."

James exploded, "Are you KIDDING me?" He lightly punched the side of Frank's leg. " _Warped sense of loyalty_? Wow! You have a talent for words, Buddy, but you don't always use them right…BRUTAL! Don't you know me at all?"

"You _need_ to understand what you're getting into. These people; they won't stop until they get what they want, or we stop them. You'll be throwing yourself in front of a freight train with no way of getting off the tracks. You don't know how bad it got the last time."

"Bud, I'd be facing the freight train even if my name _wasn't_ on the list. And I _do_ know how bad it got the last time. You guys are my family now. I'm not gonna sit around and watch you all fight the good fight while I'm toasting marshmallows. I'm getting my hands as dirty as the rest of you." James went thoughtful for a few seconds and then said, "Wow, just…WOW! Warped sense of loyalty? You're wack!"

"Sorry, badly worded," Frank admitted and reached out to feel around but getting James' thigh.

"What you doing to my leg?"

"I'm trying to shake your hand ya dumb dumb."

Sulkily James said, "I dunno if I want to," but then he laughed and his hand nudged Frank's. They awkwardly shook, slapped hands, and twanged fingers.

"Welcome to the team, James."

They travelled in silence for a while, Frank relaxed by the gentle sway of the suspension and the drone of the tires against asphalt.

James broke the stillness, "Bud, the safe house isn't Chet's farm is it? Cause so far your planning has been impeccable, but taking us to one of your oldest friend's homes is predictable at best."

The car bounced over an obstacle in the road and jolted them together.

Frank could just about make out James as he rolled back and then lifted his palms up to brace them against the roof of the trunk. "Of course it's not the Morton farm but I don't want the cops who are driving us to know. I'm creating a fog screen. Remember Officer Rodden?"

"The Network guy who threatened Nancy with the gun to try and get the memory stick?" James lightly punched the back of the car and then the hand returned to push against the roof.

"Who's to say one of these guys isn't as bent out of shape?"

"They're my mates." James took a deep inhalation of air, and then blew out slowly.

"You considered Rodden your mate once. Look how skewed he turned out to be. You okay?"

"I think I'm claustrophobic after all. This journey gonna take long?"

"No, relax, only a few more minutes."

"Right, a few more minutes. I can do this." James blew air out loudly. "It's warm in here, is it warm in here?"

"Yes, it's stuffy. Relax, you're starting to worry me."

"Okay. Yeah, this is most relaxed I've been ever! Relaxed R Us. Yep, this' me being all relaxed like."

"You sound like Con sometimes."

They felt the car slow down and heard the scrunch of gravel under tires as they drew to a halt. They then heard the trunk pop. The driver's door opened, the car rocked, and footsteps strode up the side. Seconds later the trunk opened and their driver said, "We're here."

James leapt out and walked away. He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times before he returned. "A breeze!"

The second car arrived and pulled up behind them. The driver quickly opened the trunk and leaned in to lift Rebel out to the ground. He held onto his leash until the two men were out and then returned Rebel to Con.

"She your girlfriend Lieutenant?" the cop asked. A lot of Con's ex-colleagues couldn't get out of the habit of referring to him as their commanding officer. Correcting them had become tedious, so Con didn't bother anymore.

"My _partner,_ you mean? Of course she is. Would be odd if she wasn't, considering what I just did with her."

"What a _knockout_!"

"HEY!" Con objected, but then said smugly after a rethink, "You're right."

The final car pulled up. The lid opened and Joe and Vanessa rose up. Joe jumped down to the ground and then lifted Vanessa out. "Fun, fun, fun!" he said and winked at his girlfriend. She gave him a sharp nudge with her elbow. "Ouch."

Frank looked at the cars. "We'll take the first two," he decided. "Thanks for your help guys, you can go back. Tell The Chief thanks and I'll be in touch."

The men got into the rejected car and left.

"Wow, it's gotten cold," Vanessa complained, and pulled her small jacket about herself.

Joe slipped his coat off and draped it around her shoulders.

"C'mon," Frank said. "I don't want us out here in the open." He headed for the car he and James had arrived in, and dropped into the driver's seat. Joe, Vanessa and James joined him. "Follow me, Dad," Frank instructed through the wound down window.

Fenton walked across, rested his forearm on the top of the car, and leaned down. "Aren't you going to tell us where we're going?"

"Nope."

"You, Boy, are answering some questions when we get to where we're going."

"You shouldn't have put me in charge if you can't handle it," Frank said and smirked.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

A half hour drive later, Frank made a turn, swung the car to the left, and entered a property between twin gateposts. As they travelled on, a building appeared out of the gloom - a monolithically imposing house that had the look of a hotel about it.

Joe put into words what they were thinking. "Dude, is this the safe house? It's big…has the look of a hotel about it."

"It _is_ a hotel," Frank confirmed and pulled up. "Big enough to house us and in a secluded location. The chances of us being discovered here are remote. It doesn't operate as a guest house now, unofficially. Officially it appears it does, at least where its accounts are concerned and online customer feedback."

Joe laughed. He guessed where they were. "You're _way_ too clever, Dude!"

Frank grinned.

Fenton parked his car next to them, and they piled out.

The large front door opened and a familiar figure to the majority of the gang stood there. "Hello my dears. Welcome to the Oaklands Hotel."

"Hi, Mrs Holliday," said Frank and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for taking us at short notice."

"My pleasure."

"You know Con, Dad, and Joe?"

"And Vanessa." Mrs Holliday turned to James, "I don't know this young man though." She noted his uniform. "A police officer? You here to bodyguard us?"

"This is James, Con's son. He's become wrapped up in it too. I guess he's sort of Vanessa's brother now Vanessa's mom and Con live together."

"I say!" Mrs Holliday exclaimed and gave Con a broad wink. "Well done!"

"Thanks."

"James isn't just Con's son; he's a Police Detective and working undercover with us."

"What?" Con asked.

" _Interim_ Police Detective," James corrected.

"Son, did you get promoted?"

"Temporarily."

Con gave him a back thumping hug.

Fenton put an arm around him. "Knowing Ezra, it won't be temporary; he doesn't award promotions lightly. Congratulations."

"Did he say he'd talk to you about it again?" Con asked.

"Yeah. He said the balance had been tipped by the situation, that he had me 'pegged'."

"Then it won't be temporary. He'll be tying up loose ends."

"We'll see." James said, clearly not as wholly convinced as the others. He turned to Mrs Holliday. "Nice to meet you, Ma'am," he said, and shook her hand.

"Hello, young man." She studied him for a few seconds, "I can see you're Con Riley's boy…oh!" she spotted Rebel, "Who's this then?"

"This is Rebel, he's deaf," Con told her. "He used to be a police dog."

"A big boy isn't he?" She bent forward to give his head a rub. Rebel licked her chin. "Oh ho! We'll get along famously" she said and smiled at him. Then she pointed at Fenton's shirt. "Blood?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes," Fenton confirmed. "I'll give it a scrub."

"I think it's beyond that!" She made a 'come here' gesture with her finger and Fenton bent. She angled his head toward the light from the hallway and inspected the wound. "Looks sore, but they've done some neat stitch work." She tutted, "You boys should take more care."

"Can't feel a thing. Anaesthetic's good."

She turned to the hotel. "Come on in, all of you. You look frozen. Nancy not with you?"

"Not this time."

"A tad worrying."

"It is," Joe agreed.

James leaned in to Joe to whisper. "This is the woman who crowned Frank with her handbag isn't it?" He lowered his voice even more. "The one with the police record, and the hip flask?"

"That's me," Mrs Holliday confirmed over her shoulder.

James cringed. She'd clearly been gifted Rebel's share of hearing ability.

Joe laughed, "Mrs Holliday hid Frank and Nancy from us during the last Pandora case. I should have guessed Frank would bring us here earlier, it makes so much sense."

Mrs Holliday showed them through to the lounge area where a log fire blazed, sending out warm rays. "Make yourselves at home," she instructed and glanced at Rebel. "Con, you can let Rebel off the leash."

Con bent, unhooked the dog, and Rebel trotted straight to the fire to curl up in front.

"Where's Nancy?" Mrs Holliday asked Frank.

"I don't know," Frank said. "Haven't spoken to her for ages."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They split up," Joe explained.

Mrs Holliday stepped up to Frank and stared at him. Then she suddenly bought her fist up, and bopped him in the centre of the forehead. He jumped in surprise. "What's happening up there you foolish boy, she's lovely!" She put her hands on her hips. "You'd better find the sweet girl, hadn't you? She needs looking after."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "It's what we intend on doing."

Mrs Holliday waved a finger in his face sternly and then turned to the others. "I've got hot chocolate on the go. Would everyone like one?" She didn't wait for a response and bustled out.

Frank's phone beeped and he glanced at his shattered screen. "Mom and Andrea have boarded their flight. They're fine, no complications." He slumped down in the wing chair he'd became accustomed to sitting in before, and pushed his long legs out to catch the warmth.

Rebel got in the way like a heavy and stubborn cushion so Frank used him as a foot stool. He crossed one ankle over the other and leaned back.

"Where are they heading?" Joe asked.

"Seattle-Tacoma International. Where they go from there's up to them. And if they're smart, they'll keep their location to themselves."

"Talking of smart, or being over smart. What the _heck_ , Son?" Fenton asked. "What secret organisation are you a part of?"

"I'm not."

"You've embroiled us with The Network again haven't you?"

"Dad, give me some credit, it's the _last_ thing I'd do. I created my _own_ secret organisation. I wouldn't trust anyone else with your lives."

"Explain yourself."

Frank removed his feet from Rebel and sat up straight to answer, but Joe jumped in with his own question, "Dude, why do you get to keep your phone when we couldn't?"

"Because mine's untraceable and our lifeline. I can't believe I nearly destroyed it...and all you do is play games on yours."

 _"_ _Watch it!"_ Joe protested, but then continued with his questions. "But seriously, Frank. Yours must be traceable; it's not as if the Pandora Posse had a problem tracing your number."

"I didn't _make_ my number difficult to find. It's the SIM card I made untraceable not my number. I got tired of looking over my shoulder and invited them in instead…took a different approach, a less defensive one. You keep your friends close but your enemies closer."

"You told me you'd taken care of the Pandora problem, that they wouldn't be back."

"I know I did, and as far as I knew they wouldn't be. I still didn't feel secure though, something continued to niggle at me…call it instinct if you like. So I created a safety net for us just in case. A lot of hard work, but I did it." Frank stood up, "Come with me, I'll show you." He stepped into the hallway and called out, "Mrs Holliday?"

 _"_ _Yes, my dear?"_

"I'm taking the guys upstairs, that all right by you?"

Rebel raised his head for a second but then lost interest, snorted and returned to lazing.

 _"_ _Please yourself, you hold the purse strings. Get poor Vanessa some warm clothes, and have your Dad change out of his revolting shirt. The only thing that should be wearing it is a trash can."_

"Will do."

They trooped up, and followed Frank along the second floor corridor. He walked them passed a lot of doors, around a couple of corners, until he reached the very last door at the end. A took his keys from his pocket, selected one from the bunch and unlocked the door. He opened up, switched the light on and invited them to enter.

Inside, they found an empty room, empty except for six closets positioned against the walls. Frank walked across to the closest one and pulled the sliding door open to reveal a row of clothes. "These are yours, Joe," he said and then took a few steps to reach and open the next one where they found more rows of garments for every type of weather. He pulled down a long sleeve, button up tee-shirt and flung it at Fenton who caught it. "Get changed, Mrs Holliday's right, your shirt's a wreck. You may as well dump the jacket too." Frank regarded James up and down, "I should think Dad's togs will fit you. Lose the uniform, you won't need it."

He started to cross the room to another cupboard, but Vanessa tripped by and got her hand to it first. She slid it open to reveal women's outfits. "I did my best," he admitted. "But I'm not great with girl clothes. These are Nancy Drew's, yours are in this one," and he slid open the next door along.

"Whoa!" Vanessa said and looked through them. "Don't knock your taste," she said, pulling out a cute pullover. She checked the label. "Frank! This is designer!" she exclaimed and thrust it out at him.

"It wasn't my taste. I had a personal shopper's help. She worked from photographs of you. Glad you like them though. Makeup and hair stuff's in the drawers. I nosed around your dressing table, sorry to be such a snoop."

"I don't mind. It's gorgeous!"

Frank grinned. "That one's mine," he said and pointed at a stand-alone cupboard on the back wall.

Con turned to the final closet and opened it up to reveal garments he knew at a glance were in his size. Even the leg measurements looked right. His eyes dropped to a shelf - a feeding bowl, a leash, toys and dog food sat there. "My God, you even thought of Rebel. When did you do all this?"

"I've been working on it for months. I worried Pandora's box might be opened again so I wanted to be ready this time. Wanted to weaken their ability to use you guy's against me. Mrs Holliday has been happy to get in on the act; she likes the cloak and dagger of it." Frank turned to James, "I'm sorry I didn't cater for you but like I said, I didn't think they'd come for you."

"Don't sweat it, Frank."

"Well I do." Frank stared at James' feet. "What shoe size do you take?"

"Elevens, but I can carry on wearing my police issue boots."

"You take the same size as Joe and I. Problem solved."

Joe frowned. "But Dude, this have will cost a fortune. I know you got a hefty reward from the government, but they split half of it between Nancy and me. I know you didn't get _that_ much, definitely not enough to do all this, _and_ send Mom and Andrea off on an extended vacation on a whim. Did Mrs Holliday help you out?"

"Mrs Holliday hasn't that kind of money."

"Then…how?"

Frank shrugged, "Like I said to Mom. Money isn't an issue anymore."

"I know what you said, but you didn't explain," Fenton said.

"There wasn't time."

"There is now, stop prevaricating."

Frank's hand stilled on the door of Nancy's closet for a beat, then his fingers splayed, and he pushed to glide it slowly shut, He turned his head away, but didn't drop his arm. "Remember how I recreated the Pandora game, so the Posse would be fooled into believing I'd given them the memory stick, when really I gave them a mock-up?"

"Yeah."

"Turns out I've a talent for it. I've been designing game apps on the side. I sell them to a distributer and receive a percentage of the profit for every game downloaded, and I get advertising revenue. They're selling well. It's given me more than a regular income. After the first one took off, I hired a team of online developers who work on my ideas. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to treat me differently. I ploughed the Pandora reward money into it and it paid off, and I ploughed that money into this. Nothing to do with Arthur Gray or The Network."

"You serious?"

Frank's head tipped so he could look at them peripherally rather than face on. "My therapist encouraged me to take up a hobby, something with nothing to do with detective work. I chose game design. It took off so quickly, shocked me. And the money? It's crazy. I didn't want it to alter the team dynamics so I said nothing. I didn't want to unbalance us. I guess it will now."

"Which games did you design I might have heard of?" Vanessa asked, her professional interest peaked.

"Diamante Drop, Junk-it Junker, Hoppy the Hamster—"

"Hoppy the Hamster? No way!"

"Even _I've_ heard of Hoppy the Hamster," Con said. "Half the kids you see are wearing Hoppy the Hamster t-shirts."

They regarded him with new eyes and Frank turned his head away again. "You see, _that's_ what I didn't want to happen, the way you're looking at me like I grew a new head. I don't want you to treat me differently. I'm a PI and always will be. The app thing's a hobby gone mad until I get bored of it. I didn't want to tell you."

"I'm proud of you son," Fenton said and stepped forward to pat him on the back. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it."

"Yeah, it's cool, Dude," Joe agreed and laughed. "You're SUCH a _geek_ though."

Frank finally turned, leaned back against Nancy's closet, and crossed his arms. "Says the guy on Level 6 of _Hoppy the Hamster,_ with four carrots on each game, and a full set of bonus sunflower seeds - not such a jock you won't play the game, huh?"

"How do you—"

"I get sent the leader board stats. Bro, you need to get a life! And don't think I didn't read the negative feedback you left because you couldn't get Hoppy out of Carrot Warren's maze…and pay for the full game, you tight ass."

"I'm not lining your pockets any more than I already have!" Joe snapped. He commenced to lift his pullover to reveal a Hoppy the Hamster T-shirt underneath. "I expect family-rates next time."

-o0o-

Mrs Holliday yelled up the stairs for them to come down. She had food ready to serve at the dining room table. Joe charged the stairs. He expected to be the first in the room, but Frank already sat at the table with his phone laid next to his place setting. Joe chose to sit in the chair directly across the table from him.

Everyone else wandered in one at a time to join them as Mrs Holliday busily sat plates down. "Well, don't you look pretty," she said to Vanessa as she came in.

"Thank you."

"I've spoken to Ezra," Frank said. "All quiet at the station - no more gun play. I think we removed ourselves from Bayport at the best time. At least the general populace will be safer."

"Did he say anything about your phone, if they managed to locate where the calls are coming from?" Fenton asked.

"No luck. I didn't think the Posse would be so stupid as to make themselves so visible. They didn't manage to run the car attackers to ground either. They exited their car seconds before you hit it, and disappeared into the back streets. I think you'd be dead if you hadn't driven at them like you did. Apparently their car rolled forward, they were gonna follow you; they weren't giving up." Frank turned to his Dad. "Ezra asked me to pass on his compliments for an inspirational plan."

"Can't take credit for Con's idea. I just went for it."

"Either way. Great team work." Frank took a bite of his food. "I know it's late but I think we should share what we found out today."

"Well, nothing from Con and I," Fenton began. "Unless you want to include the fact the Pandora Posse don't care who gets hurt in order to get what they want, and their preferred gun's a Beretta 92. Mind you, I'm not sure they care what weapon they use, so long as it does the job." His hand strayed to his head and he ran his fingers along his stitches and grimaced.

"You okay, Flash?" Con asked.

"I think the anaesthetic's wearing off." Two painkillers dropped in front of Fenton as if by magic along with a glass of water.

"Thanks, Mrs Holliday."

"You're welcome, Fenton. The shirt looks nice by the way. Shows off your, you know, your bumps and such like...muscles."

Con had taken a good mouthful of coffee and started to snort. He had to force himself to swallow for fear of spray painting coffee all over everyone, it made matters worse.

"Erm, thanks?" Fenton said and shot Frank a look. He quickly passed his glass of water to Con to help dampen down the hoarse coughing. "Here, drink this."

The corner of Joe's mouth lifted up.

Frank shrugged slightly and waited for the Con to get his throat under control before he said to James, "What about you, James. It didn't escape my notice you don't have the phones with you. Did they get left behind in the rush?"

"I didn't have them, couldn't find 'em, they weren't there."

Frank's fork hit his plate as he lowered it with a clatter. "Not there?"

"I pulled the files out of the drawer, the bottom's empty. The chargers were there but not the cells. I even checked the other drawers." He turned to Joe with a grin. "Did you come up with the titles for those casefiles?"

"Did you like 'em?"

"Awesome!" He half stood to reach across the table to high-five Joe, and then turned to Frank. "There were files for all your cases, but nothing for Pandora. Should there be one?"

"Yes, _'The Mysterious Nature of Pandora's Box'_."

"Well, that's missing too. I think someone's been…wait…what's it called?"

Frank sighed. " _'The Mysterious Nature of Pandora's Box'_."

James laughed loudly and Joe sniggered. "Classic!" He looked at Joe and shook his head. "As I said, I think someone has been in your office and taken them. Did you leave anything useful in the file?"

Frank answered, "Not the code. So if they thought they would get some clues from it, they were disappointed. It included where Nancy Drew and I found the four sections of code, but Ezra arranged to have the three plaques removed for me months ago. Oh, and…erm…I did something unforgivable and tore the page out of the book at the library which contained the forth portion of the code."

"FRANK!" Fenton exclaimed, appalled.

Frank's hands came up. "I _know_ , I'm not proud, but I didn't want to leave _anything_ for anyone to find."

Fenton shook his head.

Frank continued, "But the final four digits of the code would still have been on those phones even with the page torn from the book. Dammit!" His head turned on one side and a pained expression spread across his face. He leaned forward on the table and put his hands over his eyes.

Joe frowned.

"Frank?" Fenton said, and touched his arm.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

Joe and Fenton glanced at one another. The wounded expression passing across Frank's face as he hid behind his hands worried them.

Frank didn't remove his palms from his eyes, but said reassuringly to his Dad's concerned enquiry, "I'm fine, I'm thinking, trying to remember. Give me a second. I'm concentrating."

They gave him a moment of silent grace and finally his hands came down. "I'm trying to recall if I deleted my message, I'm pretty sure I did. So wary I…oh man, it's so hard to remember…what's going on? My head's like treacle. No…I think I restored the factory settings and destroyed the SIM cards so they could be used as spares in future. I think."

"If you did that, then you've got nothing to worry about," Vanessa said.

"I can't be one hundred percent sure I did though."

Joe said, "Dude, it might have put us slightly on the back foot, but there's not a lot the Pandora Posse can do with one portion of the code even if they _do_ have it. We need to get the rest of it and turn it somehow to our advantage. You said something about getting yourself a head doctor?"

"What do you mean?" Fenton asked, concerned.

"I spoke to Doctor Cox; remember her?"

"From Gresham Hospital, the Psychiatrist?"

"The Emily Cox who asked us to take part in her study about sibling relationships?" Joe asked.

"She's a trained hypnotherapist too. She's agreed to see me tomorrow to see if she can clear the blockage I've developed. She thinks it's a stress reaction to what's going on, my brain trying to protect me again." Frank turned to his Dad. "Will you come with me?"

Fenton nodded. "So _that's_ what you meant about your brain being like a computer and needing the information downloading?"

Frank nodded. "But I'm nervous, it's giving someone free access. I don't want to without having someone at my back. Even if she can make me go under, I'm a sceptic when it comes to that mumbo-jumbo."

"I dunno so much," Con said. "Happened to me once, on stage - embarrassing. I did the John Travolta dance from _Saturday Night Fever."_

"Which's why I want you there, Dad," Frank said. "Thanks Con, you made an uncomfortable thought even worse."

"Sorry, Junior."

"Son, Doctor Cox won't make you do a dance, the woman's a professional psychiatrist not a stage artist!"

Mrs Holliday appeared at Frank's shoulder. "Maybe she can knock some sense into that brain of yours," she said, dropped a glass of milk down in front of him and tapped him on the head. "Make you realize what a fool you've been about Nancy." She gave Fenton another glass of water and stood expectantly, waiting for Frank to respond.

Frank ran the back of his hand over his forehead. "Vanessa," he said quickly, and cut Mrs Holliday off so she went away again. "Did you come up with anything?"

"Plenty," Vanessa said. "There's loads of intel flying around in the Dark Net that's gotten the hacker community buzzing. Rumor has it there's a self-learning program being developed with the ability to destroy anything it comes up against, and will be powerful enough as to put the hackers out of business. It's nicknamed 'P'. Ring a bell?"

"But isn't taking down the hackers a good thing?" Con asked.

"Not necessarily. Not all hackers are _bad_. Some work to help companies plug the holes in their firewalls - banks and such like - even defence systems and the various spy and government agencies. Multinationals will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to uncover vulnerabilities in their systems. If something like Pandora came to the market, the hackers would be out of business overnight. And they're not stupid; they've worked out what we know - 'P' could be used for the opposite of good. Collaborative groups of system engineers have been creating self-preservation alliances in order to develop an anti-program to attack 'P' if it's activated. It'll be World War Three in cyber space if 'P' goes live."

"That as bad as it sounds?" Fenton asked.

"To be honest I'm surprised it's not kicked off already, tension's amped right up with the factions flaming each other. There are splinter groups springing up all over the place. That on its own is gonna be destructive if they go to war."

"Hmm," Frank said.

"Dark chatter's rife with anecdotal evidence that some of the best programmers and coders have gone offline over the last few months to work on a top secret project. It's hotly believed they're working on 'P'. Apparently it's on the verge of completion and after, they'll only need one further component to get it activated."

"The missing component has to be the code," Joe concluded.

"Do you think you could pull together a group of these hackers, coders and programmers?" Frank asked.

"Why?"

Frank leaned forward. "To form an attacking force, an online army of our own who can support us in the virtual world. We may soon have the code, and we could use it, but how much better would it be if we had a group of experts out there to help, who have an equitable interest - whether they be good or bad? In fact I don't care which side of the fence they sit on, so long as they're working with us, and are the best."

"Great idea!" Vanessa exclaimed and leaned toward him. "I have several online friends who are involved. I've got a particular friend who's very knowledgeable, and knows practically everyone who's worth knowing. He's trustworthy in as far as what he does could land him in jail if word got out. I'm assuming it's a 'he', of course it could as easily be a woman."

"I don't want you blackmailing anyone."

"No…what I'm suggesting is, we make it a _'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'_ agreement. We have the information the dark net community have been scrambling around for, or hopefully we will after you've seen your doctor friend. They'll be likely to want to work with us, and we can form a breakaway group of our own…or even unite a few of the squabbling factions. Play them at their own game, as it were. I'm sure it could prove profitable for us. They're desperate to get the upper hand and we might be in a position to offer it."

"Do it," Frank said.

Vanessa frowned. She caught Con grinning and Fenton put his arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze. "I knew we made a good decision offering you the job. You're more than proving your worth."

"Thank you," Vanessa said and went crimson. "It's much more satisfying working with you guys, even though it's terrifying some of the time."

"Compute-Soft's loss is our gain."

Frank turned to Joe, "What about you, Bro? What luck did you have with locating Nancy Drew?"

Mrs Holliday clicked her tongue. Frank rolled his eyes and closed his mouth into a tight line.

"None, and I'm worried. I spoke to Carson, and he and Hannah have been trying to get hold of her for two days but keep hitting dead air. Carson says it's out of character. She always keeps in regular contact even when she's undercover. They were plenty panicky over the phone."

"What's she working on?"

"An auction house has asked her to look into a case involving antiques going missing during the auctioning process, actually _during_ the auctions, after the viewings. Expensive pieces switched with knockoffs. Sounds like an interesting case. Nan's been staking out a particular auction house, and they saw her leave to follow a guy who'd been showing an interest in jewellery. She hasn't been heard from since."

"Worrying."

"And check this out - the auction house she's helping? They have four branches, two in River Heights and two in New York. They saw her last at their branch in NYC, but not since."

"But that's only an hour away!" James said. "Why didn't she let us know she's in town?"

"We're not together anymore, remember?" Frank said.

"Doesn't mean _we're_ not friends though, and split amicably. I don't get it. Her folks are right, it's out of character, not the actions of the Drew we know. I've not known her for as long as you guys, but even _I_ can tell that's not right." He paused for a moment in consideration and then ploughed on, "While I'm able to speak my mind - you calling her _'Nancy Drew',_ what's the heck, Frank?"

"What do you mean?"

"THANK YOU!" Mrs Holliday said. Her head appeared around the door to the kitchen.

James put his hands up, and nodded at her.

"I said that to Fenton earlier," Con muttered.

Frank audibly sighed. "Look, I don't want to get bogged down in a discussion about a past relationship. What matters is finding Nancy Drew. I'm willing to go out on a limb and say the Pandora Posse haven't got her. If they had they'd be using her as leverage. I think she's gone to ground."

"I agree with you Frank," Con said. "But I also agree with James. What's happening with you and Drew? Can't you see how darned strange you're both being? Calling her _'Nancy Drew'_? It's a cruelly detached way of referring to someone you used to call _'the one'_."

Frank turned slowly and gazed coldly at Con from under his dropped brow.

"You really can't see the strangeness in it?" Con raised his hands and made a balance motion. "I'm not trying to stir the pot, but it's affecting your thought processes."

Joe leaned back in his seat to observe. He could see the muscles feverously at work in Frank's jaw, a sure sign of growing aggravation. He slightly elevated a finger to catch his father's eye and raised his eyebrows warningly.

Fenton nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Frank said frostily and positioned his silverware down on his plate. He rested his elbows either side of his plate and bought his hands tightly together. "Plan of action for tomorrow." He looked at Joe, "You and Con go and see Arthur Gray, see if you can get him to talk, although I won't be holding my breath." He turned to Fenton next, "You and I are going to see Doctor Cox to see if she can unblock my brain, which reminds me—" he opened up his phone and began to enter a to-do note. "I've got to text her an overview of what I want from her." He concentrated on the screen for a few seconds and then dropped the phone down and looked at James, "Can you and Vanessa drive into New York and see if you can get a handle on where Nancy Drew—"

"There he goes again with the _'Nancy Drew'_ ," Con muttered under his breath.

Frank snapped, "CON! Stop breaking my chain of thought." Both hands rose to his temples but he still stared steadfast at James. "See if you can find _her_. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I'm a cop, Frank. It's my bread and butter but what I said about Nancy, I don't want you to—"

" _Thanks._ "

"Don't you want me to talk to my friends on the Dark Net?" Vanessa asked. "And for the record I want it noted I'm with James and Con too. It's weird Frank and—"

"OH MY GOD would you all STOP?" his hands now fists, he cut off eye contact and looked down at the table top. "It's NONE of your BUSINESS!"

They quieted and Fenton used the opportunity to shake his head at everyone to leave him alone.

Frank grunted, unrolled his hands and lowered them gently palms down onto the table. Then he rolled his neck, took a deep breath and looked at Vanessa from out under his lashes, his eyes deadened, intense and dark.

Vanessa sat away in her chair and grabbed Joe by the hand under the table.

Joe said, _"Frank…"_ in a low, warning tone.

Frank blinked and his gaze softened. He said calmly, "Vanessa, please don't contact your hacker friend yet. Wait until we know we've got the code. We need to know exactly where we stand first, and I don't want to make things worse on the dark net, okay?"

"Fine."

The _Mission Impossible_ Theme Tune belted out on his phone. He glanced at the screen to see it was the _'Unknown Number'_ that had plagued him on and off all day. "AND YOU CAN SHUT THE HELL UP TOO!" he bellowed. He picked it up to turn the ringer to silent.

A tumbler of brandy came down to him. Frank took it automatically in his free hand, threw it back in one slug and then dropped it down onto the table with a thud.

"Better?" Mrs Holliday asked.

"Yes thanks. Sorry everyone…sorry Vanessa. I think we covered everything. I'm tired, going to bed. Need to text Doctor Cox." He picked up his phone and headed for the door. As he passed Vanessa, he gave her shoulder a gentle stroke. "Fresh start tomorrow, yeah?" He waved over his shoulder, and exited the room while he pressed the heel of his hand to his brow. "Good work, Vanessa."

Con gave Frank enough time to get out of hearing distance and then tipped a thumb. "What the hell…was that?"

"I don't know," Fenton answered.

"I've never seen that before," Joe said. "You okay, Van?"

"Yeah, wow - intense much!"

-o0o-

They slept well, so anaesthetized by the previous day's experiences none of them had stirred; a testament, in the most part, to Frank's careful planning. They felt safe and secure.

After breakfast Frank gathered the troops in the lounge for a briefing prior to hitting the road for their various assignments.

Joe watched Frank, but his irritation of the previous evening at Con, Vanessa and James' questions had evaporated. His early night, a good sleep, must have helped.

"We clear as to what we're doing?" Frank asked. No one said anything. They gazed impassively and offered nothing. "Maybe I worded it badly. Let me put it this way, has anyone any questions?" Another round of blank stares followed. Frank tipped his head in Fenton's direction. "Don't put me in charge again. I don't know how you do it."

"Try it with an air of pomposity," Fenton said with a wry grin.

"Do we look at you like that when you're giving _us_ briefings?"

"Pretty much, but there's usually a glimmer of intelligence from you."

Con objected, "Watch it little man!"

Vanessa put Frank out his misery. "I've got a question. How can I make contact with my online contact without a computer?"

"There's one here," Frank said.

"Oh! It is any good?"

"I'll give you the tour later. There's something else I want to show you which will help to set Joe's mind at rest but can wait." He turned away and reached down the side of the winged chair. "But while we're on the subject of tech, I should have given these to you yesterday." He pulled a bag out and unloaded a series of small white boxes. He consulted the names written on each lid as he passed them around. "James, this is the phone intended for Nancy Drew but I guess it's no biggy."

"Cool," James muttered. He accepted it and opened the box to extract the cell phone.

"You answered the only question I had," Joe said and opened the lid on his to find a black cell phone nestled neatly inside. "Nice. Better than the one I had to leave behind." He smirked at his brother, "Did you upload Hoppy the Hamster?"

"No, and _don't_! But what I did do is input your numbers onto each cell, but remember James' is listed as 'Nancy Drew'. These phones are untraceable, and they're loaded with GPS software only my phone can access. So if anything happens I'll know exactly where you are. Please don't mess with the settings."

"What if the battery goes flat?"

"Use the external battery pack in the box. You plug 'em in and click the switch. I've charged them fully too."

Joe dug into the box and his hand came out with a tube shaped piece of kit with a short lead coming out the end. It looked like a stick of dynamite.

"That's it," Frank confirmed.

Con said, "We don't have enough transport."

"Mrs Holliday has lent us one of her cars." Frank reached to pick up an envelope from off the table. He went from person-to-person, and handed them a credit card. "Don't access your own bank accounts, use these. And please let's be careful out there. None of us are returning to Bayport but it doesn't mean we won't be spotted, especially you Vanessa. A near six feet tall, blonde, Amazonian woman? You're instantly recognizable even from the back."

Delighted by his description, Vanessa smiled broadly. "Wow! Thanks Frank. Why don't you ever compliment me so imaginatively?" She asked Joe.

Joe frowned at Frank. "What have I told you about hitting on my girlfriend?"

"Just be careful," Frank said, and grinned. "Any more questions?"

James held a finger up. "Are you a cyborg, Frank?"

"I direct you to Fenton Hardy…Dad?"

"Thanks Frank," Fenton turned to James. "No, pure humanoid. Born from my seed."

"Ew!" Vanessa grimaced. "Mr H…gross!"

Mrs Holliday appeared in the doorway. "You leaving?" she asked. Rebel stood next to her, his watery, loving eyes turned up to her face. Her palm rested lightly on his head. Every now and then, her fingers moved to scramble his fur into tiny crop circles.

"Didn't take him long to make friends did it?" Con said.

"He's a smashing dog, Con. Such a well-trained boy. I thought it would be difficult to communicate with a deaf dog but for some reason he doesn't have a problem hearing me."

Con's mouth kinked up, "Ah. Some people have a knack with him I guess."

"If you ever need a dog-sitter, I don't mind having him."

"May take you up on it one day."

"I'll hold you to it. No kennels for this boy!"

Frank said, "I'm glad you're getting on because, if Con doesn't mind, Rebel should stay here and look after you."

Con nodded. "Fine with me, Junior. I'd been tempted to make him growl at Arthur Gray but that'll work too. I hope we catch up with Gray today, I want to meet this man of myth."

"Trust me Con, he's no myth."

"If anything happens, you know where I'll be, young Frank," Mrs Holliday said.

"I'm sure it won't be necessary."

"Make sure you wrap up warm," Mrs Holliday instructed them and headed off into the kitchen with Rebel. She lifted a finger, "Remember, filthy weather equals filthy noses! Good luck."


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

Joe hovered by the door and watched as everyone left the house, swaddling themselves in hats, scarves, gloves and heavy coats. He guessed Frank would hold back until everyone left, so he loitered. As Frank drew near, Joe hooked his elbow and made him wait until Fenton left. Eventually, they stood close, alone in the narrow passageway.

"What's up, Bro?"

"I wanted to say good luck with the hypnotism. You gonna be okay?"

"I think so."

Joe narrowed his eyes, "Really?"

"Truthfully?"

"No Dude, I want you to lie."

Frank laughed. "I don't want to do it, but I have to. I'm not naïve. I know I'm not balancing out and I'm worried this will make things worse. Something's triggering me and it's not just Pandora. I've been in a good place for months."

"Frank, it's us talking about Nancy that winds you up."

Frank grunted. "Screw you Joe, don't corner me to start—"

Joe rested his hands quickly on Frank's shoulders. "Stop, Frank," he said calmly. "Stop, be cool. Turn on your rational chip and consider what I just said and how you reacted. Use your head and not your heart. Do you think it's a logical or reasonable response?"

Frank turned quietly introspective and leaned back against the wall. After a matter of seconds, Joe felt the tension release under his hands as Frank's shoulders relaxed. "Aw man! You're right; it _is_ people talking about Nancy Drew setting me off. I don't know why but it gets right under my skin. Every time she's mentioned, a pressure builds. If I can't get away, I blow up."

"Do you feel the same when Callie's name is mentioned?"

"No, but then her name isn't a hot topic at the moment, and I don't—"

"Love her?" Joe finished for him.

Frank froze and stared at Joe staring back. "I wasn't going to say that," he said slowly.

"I'm not so sure, Dude, and I don't think you are either." Frank opened his mouth, but Joe ploughed on to stop Frank's objection. "Whatever. See if you can't get a handle on what's going on, and try not to worry about your session with Doctor Cox. She knows what she's doing and Dad'll be with you the whole way. Why not pick Doctor Cox's brain about Nancy while you have the opportunity?"

"I guess. Thanks, Bro."

Joe gazed for a second and then moved quickly to lay an arm right across Frank's shoulders, and forced him into a headlock. He proceeded to rub his knuckles over his scalp. "You got fleas, Dude!"

"Get off! As your boss I demand respect!"

-o0o-

James and Vanessa sat in a coffee house, nursing hot drinks and picking at muffins. They'd have gone straight to the auction house, if not for the fact that all the way to New York they'd been half frozen to death - stupidly, they'd opted to take Mrs Holliday's vehicle with its heater on the fritz.

"I feel human again," Vanessa said. She unravelled her silky scarf and hung it over the back of her seat.

"I don't think I'm ever gonna be warm again," James complained. "There comes a stage when you can't get any colder." He wrapped his hands around his cup in a vain attempt to warm his fingers.

Vanessa watched the city, taking in the unfamiliar noises and smells only New York offered. "The city rocks! When growing up, I wanted to live here, and went through a stage of thinking Bayport dull. Now I can't imagine living anywhere else."

"Trust me Van, I've lived here. It's great if you're rich, but for a poor boy, it's no picnic. Bayport's a massive improvement on my previous living conditions." James took the last gulp of his coffee, set the empty cup aside and lifted his notebook from his top pocket. "Shall we talk about Nancy?"

Vanessa turned away from the window. "What about Frank last night? His reaction? He almost exploded into a million pieces. The way he looked at me."

"Van, he DID explode but he's under a lot of pressure and we were pushing him. He's right, what happened with him and Nancy has nothing to do with us. Mr H and Joe had backed off, and we should have too." He opened up the notebook with a flourish. "Frank's got enough going on without us adding to the strain."

"But they're perfect for each other."

"Any fool can see that, but Frank's a complex guy who considers himself damaged. I don't think the guilt has ever let go its grip about what happened with Pandora. Maybe it's a good thing he let Nancy go."

"I don't agree."

"As I said, we can't make his decisions for him, even when we can see he's making a monumentally _dumb ass move_!" James rolled his lip and changed the subject. "The auction house Nancy had under surveillance is a place called _'Hansons'._ It's a half-block away." He leaned forward and peered out the window. "You can see the building from here."

Vanessa looked into the direction he indicated and nodded. "I see it."

"Other than the information Joe got, we're going in blind. No formal investigation has been opened."

"Why not?"

"Missing person cases involving adults aren't looked at until they've been missing for at least 48 hours. Even then, the Police will typically only investigate if it's out of character, or if there are extenuating circumstances. Chief Collig has convinced his counterpart here to allow us to take the case even though it's outside of our jurisdiction."

"Really?"

"One less case's a bonus as far as the NYPD's concerned. And Nancy's a potentially missing PI; most Chiefs of Police don't think like Collig and don't welcome what they see as interference from PIs. Some will consider Nancy's case as falling under the category of _'hard luck'_."

"That STINKS!"

"Even The Chief won't put up with PIs like Oscar Smuff - kicks the guy out of the precinct every time he comes in. If Collig could revoke Smuff's PI Licence, he would. I suspect the only reason The Chief tolerated Fenton at first is because he's an ex-cop. Then he won Collig over by getting results."

"Mr H _is_ pretty fly." Vanessa slipped off her stool, and grabbed her scarf. She wrapped it once around her neck and let the two ends drape down to her waist. "I don't like the thought of Nancy out there somewhere in need of our help. It's not like her not to drop us a line to say _'Hi'_."

They stepped out into the cold again, and James took Vanessa's elbow to encourage her across the street before the lights changed to green. Once on the sidewalk, they slowed to a fast clip and Vanessa tucked her arm into his. He glanced at her leather-gloved hand rested on his bicep and grinned - he enjoyed the close, easy, companionable contact of his new sister. "How are you finding working with Mr H's gang?"

"I like it tons. It's a real family atmosphere. The guys look out for me and don't expect me to make them drinks…even though the agency's fuelled by coffee. I feel like they consider me an equal, although I'm not quite feeling it yet. This is my first outing as a member of the team so I need to prove my worth. I think Nancy working for them as a woman has helped ease me in from the get-go."

"Well, I know Dad underestimated Nancy for a while and she taught him a lesson. From the way Fenton and Con reacted yesterday, I think you've already proven yourself worthy."

"No…I mean prove to _myself_ I'm worthy, that _I_ can do it. I've always been one of the sidekicks, not a front runner. This is new territory."

"Gotcha."

"The only issue I've got is Joe forgets I'm not his girlfriend when we're in the office. It's embarrassing when he plants a kiss on my neck or something."

"It's the _something_ I'd be more worried about people seeing."

Vanessa shoved him. "Watch it, Jimmy."

James laughed. "That's why you're not sharing a room at the hotel?"

"Yep. And he worries about me, constantly. Drives me crazy! It's smothering."

Presently, they stood at the entranceway of _Hansons_ and looked up at the art deco style lettering above the gold entrance doors. They stepped forward and pushed their way into the building. For a couple of seconds, they stopped to enjoy the warm air being vented down through the heating grill above the entrance.

Inside, a lawn of granite and marble stretched out before them, along with long, white tables. Various items adorned the tops of those tables, pieces that would soon go under the hammer. People milled about inspecting the items, some leaning forward with magnifying eyepieces pushed to their eyes. On the walls hung various works of art, from Pop Art canvases to neoclassical oil paintings.

"Joe would like that," Vanessa remarked, and tipped her chin at an image of a crouched Spider-Man preparing to unleash his web. A thought bubble above his head enclosed the quote _'with great power comes great responsibility'_." The place smelled of money and opulence.

Fleetingly, James thought how Frank might now find himself visiting places like this, but almost laughed at the notion. Being the most unpretentious man he knew, Frank would balk at the thought. It didn't seem Frank had spent any of the money solely on himself, not even to get himself out of an uncomfortable living arrangement.

Vanessa glanced around and located a black granite reception desk, with a small office to the rear. She pulled on James' arm and led him over. A woman sat on a high stool with a phone receiver pushed to her ear as she took copious notes. She glanced up and smiled, put her hand over the receiver and said, "Give me two minutes."

They nodded, turned to the side of the desk and listened to the call.

"Bring it along to one of our open appraisal evenings. I can email the details to you?...I have a pen, go ahead." She scribbled. "I've got it. I'll have the timetable sent…my pleasure…thank you." She re-cradled the receiver and turned her attention to James and Vanessa, "Can I help you?"

James delved into his inside pocket, pulled out his badge and showed it to her. "I'm Police Officer James Anderson and this is my associate, Vanessa Bender. I'm hoping you'll be able to help us with our enquiries."

The woman reached and plucked the leather wallet out of James' hand. It took him by surprise as being the first time anyone had done that. He'd had a must lighter hold on it than he thought.

"Do you mind if I—?" she asked and slipped his badge out of its holder. She turned it over in her hands to inspect it closely from all angles, and then pushed it to her lips.

Confused by the lip action, James asked, "Can I ask what you're doing, Miss, erm?"

"Bernadette…Bernadette Newby." She picked up the wallet and looked from James to his photo ID. "I need to make a call, excuse me." She got up and backed into the office taking James' wallet and badge with her.

James put his palms out. "Go ahead, Ma'am, steal it. Why not?

"What's that all about?" Vanessa asked and indicated to her own lips.

"I guess we'll find out in a minute. I hope I get my badge back or I can see my promotion whirl-pooling down the toilet!"

They could see her through the glass where she picked up a phone to talk to someone. She glanced there way suspiciously every now and then, but eventually she smiled openly and replaced the receiver. Then she dipped to pull a drawer open, extracted something and made her way back to them. "I apologize for rushing off. I needed to satisfy myself you were for real." She slipped James' badge into the wallet and returned it. "I talked to your Chief of Police and he verified your credentials. In fact, he said you're a Police Detective."

James smiled slightly at the last comment. "Of course it's your prerogative, but can I ask why you felt you needed to check?"

"Because we had two visitors three days ago, claiming to be from the police, asking questions about a PI we hired. They also showed me police identification, but a woefully fake one." She placed a small object down on the desk in front of them, and they looked to see a leather wallet laid there. Vanessa picked it up and opened it. Inside, they found a police badge, and ID card identical to James', but with a different photograph and bore the name of _'Michael Jeffrey'_.

"If you compare it to Officer Anderson's, you'll see what I saw."

James opened his and laid both IDs and badges side by side. He then unhooked the badges and he and Vanessa took it in turns, picking up each badge and juggling them in their hands.

"This one has no weight," Vanessa observed of the fake one. "And it's a slightly different color."

"I didn't have a legitimate one to compare it to," Bernadette smiled. "Put them to your lips and feel the difference in temperature and texture. The mouth's more sensitive than fingers."

They did so and James nodded at her. "There's a distinct difference. This one isn't metal, it's a plastic resin."

"Yes...cheap junk, not what I would expect a police badge to be made from. No better than a child's toy. Detective Anderson, I've been around antiques my whole life. I've got a trained eye. Those _police officers_ didn't fool me for an instant."

"You say they were asking questions about a private investigator? Would the person be Nancy Drew?"

"They wanted to know if I knew where Nancy's whereabouts, but, as I said, they made me suspicious so I said nothing and went into the office to use the phone."

"What did these men look like?" James asked.

"Not two men…a man and _woman_."

"A woman?" Vanessa asked and glanced at James. "What did _she_ look like?"

"Unusual. She had bobbed, dark hair, but it looked like a wig. Her eyes were unusually dark. She wasn't tall, probably a good seven or eight inches shorter than you, Vanessa."

"Frank's pharmacist."

"Sorry?"

"Never mind. What about the man?"

"Tall, athletic, red-hair, _really_ soulless eyes; he frightened me. Something almost, erm, _malignant_ about him? Although that word doesn't adequately express the way he came across. He didn't speak, but the way he looked at me…unnerving, like being looked _into_ rather than _at_."


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Bernadette continued to tell James and Vanessa about the tall, Red-Headed Man she encountered days before. A man who'd tried to pass himself off as a Police Officer, but had failed miserably. "He worried me so much I didn't attempt to phone his superiors to check his Police ID, I phoned security. Security didn't catch them though, he and the woman left as soon as I locked myself in the room. I guess they realised I'd outed them as fraudsters."

"You were so scared you locked yourself into the back office?" Vanessa asked, astonished.

"Yes, and if you'd encountered him, you would have too. _Extremely_ intimidating."

"This a picture of him?" James asked and turned the ID part of the fake badge toward her.

"It's the thing that made me suspicious in the first place, and made me look closer at the badge."

"Did you tell them anything about Nancy?"

"God, no."

"Do you mind if I take the fake badge?" James asked.

"Go ahead, I've got no further use for it. What would you like to know about Nancy?"

"We know _Hanson's_ asked her to look into fraudulent activities, and Nancy left three days ago, but didn't return?"

"Yes. I manned the reception desk that day. I didn't see her leave, but I know she intended to follow someone. She left before the two 'police officers' came in asking questions."

"How do you know?"

"Because, before she followed the man out, she came to the front desk to ask if I knew him, five minutes prior to the man and woman entering the viewing area. After they left, I looked for Nancy to warn her, but she'd gone."

"So, _did_ you know the man who Nancy followed?"

"Yes, but only because he registered with us for a bidding paddle, for our upcoming auction." She sat down, pulled a laptop forward and tapped on the keyboard. "I wouldn't normally do this, but I'm going to give you his information. Usually it would be confidential, but the Red-Headed Man with the fake ID? I don't want Nancy coming up against him." She hit a button, and a sheet of paper fed into the printer behind her. She rested her hand on the feed tray until the sheet of printed paper dropped into her palm, and she swung it around to James.

"Thanks." James read the information provided. "Mr Albert Keane. Look at his address, Van." He pointed.

"Bayport!"

Bernadette nodded. "Nancy got excited too, said she had friends in Bayport who could make her job easier."

"That's us," Vanessa said.

"I wondered why a Bayport Police Detective and his Associate were asking questions about a missing person in New York."

"I work for a detective agency and Nancy's a personal friend," Vanessa explained. "James' father's a partner at the agency."

"It's good Nancy has loyal friends to look into her disappearance."

"So you consider Nancy a missing person then?" James asked.

"She told me she would return once she saw where Mr Keane had gone, and to collect her fee. She said she would contact you to look into his background, but hasn't. None of us, including you, have been able to reach her on her cell phone, and she's not returned our calls. To me, that's the definition of a missing person - no matter what spin the NYPD choose to put on it."

James nodded. He agreed with her synopsis. "Do you know where Nancy's staying?"

"I'm afraid not."

"I don't suppose you noticed what direction she took when she left for the day?"

"She turned right and passed over the crosswalk. After that, I have no idea."

"You've been more than helpful. Thank you Bernadette."

"My pleasure. I hope you find her. I like Nancy, she's a nice girl."

"She is," Vanessa agreed.

-o0o-

Fenton accepted Doctor Cox's handshake - but then remembered how she held onto his palm and elbow the last time, and had drawn him into her room to make him tell her things he hadn't meant to. So he squeezed and quickly let go. "Thank you for seeing us at short notice."

"It's nothing." Doctor Cox became distracted for a second by Fenton's head wound, but she didn't ask anything about it. Instead, she offered her palm to Frank who took it. She pulled him smoothly into her office, looking up into his face, smiling, and retaining solid eye contact.

Frank returned her smile, but the grin didn't touch his eyes, unnatural.

She glanced at Fenton.

Fenton mouthed, _"He's nervous."_

She nodded. "Come on in, Mr Hardy."

"Fenton, please."

"Fenton it is. Call me Emily."

Fenton entered and shut the door behind him. Her consulting room appeared much the same as the last time he'd been there. A large leather sofa dominated the one side of the room with an easy chair and two guest chairs pulled up to face her desk, where she directed the men to sit.

She smiled amiably at Frank. "It's always nice to play with my favorite brothers, even if it's only the oldest one this time."

Frank moved to drop into one of the seats, but she stopped him midway with a pointing finger. "Not there, Frank, can you sit on the couch?"

"Oh. Sure."

She sat in her leather office chair, waited for the men to settle, and then addressed Frank directly. "Thank you for sending me the written outline of what you're seeking from this session, but for confirmation, you'd like see if I can find a piece of information helpful to a case you're investigating?"

"That's right."

"A code?"

"Yes."

"I understand." She surveyed him. "Actually, I changed my mind. Can you sit where I put you originally?" She pointed from Frank to the seat.

Frank got up and sat next to his father again.

"I think I've got a handle on the questions I'm going to ask - if we're successful in putting you in a trance." She pinned Frank with a stare. "I feel stupid, but I do want you on the couch. You'll be more comfortable there." Frank dutifully began to get up. "Or maybe—" Frank froze midway between. "Yes, sit on the sofa." He finished making the move and sat on the edge. He planted his feet firmly and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

Fenton shot Emily a look and she smiled. She got up and dragged the easy chair up to Frank, positioned it in front of him and then sat down. "You comfortable?"

"I guess, but I have doubts this will work."

Emily shrugged. "Probably not, but let's give it a go." She put her hands gently on his shoulders and pushed. "Sit back and uncross your arms. I'm not about to attack you."

Frank shifted away and attempted to loosen his defensive posture. He rolled his shoulders, shook his hands out, and finally dropped them into his lap.

Fenton pursed his lips. Frank didn't look any more relaxed to him. He softly coughed. "Am I all right sitting here—?"

Frank shot him a desperate look. "Don't go _anywhere_ , Dad!"

Nope, he wasn't any more relaxed.

"You're fine there, Fenton," Emily said quickly. "This shouldn't affect you." The doctor turned to Frank, "Close your eyes for me, and _try_ to relax. I'm still not convinced about you sitting there, what do you think?"

"Well—"

"Oh, never mind, doesn't matter. _Relax_ Frank."

"I'll try," he promised, and closed his eyelids.

She lightly rested her hands on his forearms and gave them a stroke. "You're still really tense, relax your arms and let them go loose. Have you done that?"

"Yes."

She transferred her hands to his knees. "Relax your legs as well, let the tension go. Imagine you're looking up at the ceiling. Float towards it. You're weightless. You're safe. How you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Without opening your eyes, imagine there's a dot on the ceiling. Focus on it as you float closer."

"Okay."

"Do you see it?"

"Yes."

"Sleepy?"

"I guess so."

"Why don't you go to sleep then? Okay, Frank?"

"Okay." Frank's head dropped to his chest.

Fenton stared, astounded and impressed.

She took Frank's hands in hers and instructed him softly. "Frank, you'll only respond to my voice now, and you'll only hear me when I'm touching you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

She tapped his arm. "Hold your arm up for me and leave it there."

He lifted his right arm high in the air, his hand loose.

"Good. You can put it down again."

He obeyed. His arm dropped with a soft thud onto the sofa beside him.

Emily scooped his hand up and laid it back on his lap. She took the opportunity to take his pulse while looking at her watch. "Frank, you're still tense, can you relax even more?" She concentrated on her watch face again, eventually nodded, and took her hands off Frank entirely. She turned to Fenton, "He's under."

"How did you do that so easily?"

"Despite appearances to the contrary, Frank really wants this to work so he gave himself over easily. And he's unusually suggestible - did you see how I got him to move from one seat to another without question?"

He laughed. "I did! I thought it would be more of a fight though."

Emily smiled. "So did Frank. As a child, did you find him to be a good boy, eager to please, not wishing to offend?"

"Spot on. Joe's more likely to question. Frank goes with the flow, good at following orders. Not so great at giving them, comes across as bossy and then stresses about it afterwards. Needs practice."

Emily laughed. "Let's get on with this shall we? Fingers crossed, this will be straightforward." She turned to Frank and took his hands. "Frank, I'm going to take you to the club you took Nancy to, the _Spirit of Oceanus. Y_ ou there?"

A slow grin played on his face. "Yes."

 _The Spirit of Oceanus is a floating hotel which boasts a nightclub. Frank and Nancy visited the club in order to find the second portion of the code. They found the four digit code on a plaque, next to a montage painting of various Greek gods and goddesses including the crab-clawed, Oceanus._

Frank's infectious smile drew Emily and Fenton in and they beamed at each other. "What are you smiling at?" She asked Frank.

"I'm dancing with the most stunning girl in the room."

"Who's the most stunning girl in the room?"

"Nancy." He smiled even broader.

"That's nice, remember that moment in time so you can revisit it, okay?"

"Yes."

"Let's move to later in the night, when you and Nancy are about to look at the picture Professor Hope gave to the ship."

Frank smile slipped away, turned into a frown, and his fingers twitched in hers.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I didn't look at the picture, Nan did."

Doctor Cox let go of Frank's hands and crossed one leg over the other. She rested her elbow on her knee, and scratched her chin thoughtfully with a manicured nail. She took one of his hands. "Where are you, Frank, while Nancy's looking at the picture?"

"I'm in the bathroom about to open the door to go out."

"Open the door Frank. Tell me what you see."

"Okay." Frank's lip twitched and he made a noise deep in his throat. "A man's with her."

"A man, Frank? What's he doing?"

"He's pushed up against her. He's got her trapped, pinned against the wall. He's holding her and making her kiss him. His hand's on her face. It's disgusting...he's disgusting."

Alarmed, Emily pulled her hands clear. "What's this about?" she asked Fenton.

"First I've heard of it." Fenton shuffled forward, and reached out to bond with his son,

The doctor's own hand came out, capturing his wrist. "Please don't Fenton, let me handle it. I know it's difficult but I know what I'm doing."

Fenton put his palm up in supplication and settled back.

Emily took Frank's hands. "Is the man hurting Nancy?"

"She's trying to get away."

"What are you going to do?"

Frank's hands rolled into tight fists under her palms and he barred his teeth. "What do you think I'm gonna do? I'm gonna make sure he never kisses anyone like that again. _No one_ treats my girl like that!"

"Frank, go back to dancing with Nancy," Emily said quickly. Frank's hands relaxed and she turned to address Fenton. "I'm not continuing with this line of questioning. I don't want to delve into anything too personal, and Nancy might not appreciate it. If he'd wanted to tell you about it, he would have. I'll come at it from a different angle." She leaned into the headrest pondering. "Let me see—" A few seconds later she leaned forward and laid a hand on Frank, "Let's go forward now, into the evening and to the journey back to your hotel." She paused for a beat, "Where are you?"

"We're in a cab."

"Is Nancy okay?"

"She washed her face and looks even more beautiful, but I wish she wouldn't cry. I don't know how to handle it."

"Is she telling you about the portion of the code, Frank?"

"She's telling me she saw it."

"Can you tell us the code, Frank?"

Frank's head swivelled to one side.

"Frank?"

"I can't hear her because she keeps putting her hand over her mouth."

"Because the man kissed her?"

"Yes…no…I don't know."

"Go back to dancing with Nancy." Emily turned to Fenton and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. After a short pause she switched her attention back. "Frank, go forward to a time when you and Nancy were at Universal Studios Orlando. You there?"

"Yes." He smiled.

 _Frank and Nancy had taken a trip to Universal Studios Orlando in order to visit the Poseidon's Fury attraction. One of the many curiosities is an arm made of fiberglass rearing up out of the ground, its hand brandishing and thrusting a trident fork skyward. On the arm, higher than head height, they found a clumsily glued on plaque with the third portion of the code embossed on it._

"What are you doing, Frank?" Emily asked.

He laughed softly, "A man's looking at us strangely because we seem to be the only couple with no kids."

"You're having a good time though?"

"Nan's keeping me sane and grounded. She's the one, you know?"

Doctor Cox giggled. "I can tell. I'm asking you to move further on to Poseidon's arm. You there?"

"We're walking around the outside, trying to find the marker Professor Hope might have left."

"Any luck?"

Frank's face turned triumphant. "I've found it."

"What does it say?"

Frank's head turned to one side and he flinched. "I can't see it, it's too far away."

"Explain to me what you mean by _too far away_ , Frank?"

"It's up the arm, _way_ up the arm. It's a speck up there and the sun's so bright it's blinding." He flinched even more. "Ouch! It hurts!"

"Look away from it, Frank. Nancy must know it though, ask her for it."

"Okay"

"What's she saying?"

"I can't hear her because she got her hand over her mouth."

"Go and dance with Nancy, Frank."

Emily let go of Frank's hands and stared perplexed. "Interesting—"

"What going on?" Fenton asked. "Is that normal?"

She turned completely around until she faced Fenton, and leaned her elbows on the chair's arm. "It's entirely _not_ normal. To your knowledge has Frank ever had one of these sessions before?"

"He might have as part of his therapy, but he's never told me if he did. He's kept it private."

"He didn't," she said. "Frank organized his sessions through me. I recommended the facility in Seattle and I know his therapist doesn't use hypnotism as a treatment aid, and I wouldn't have recommended it. It would have been cruel."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because from the way Frank's answering my questions, I think someone has already been in his head. Someone has implanted false memories to hide the code away and may have tampered in other areas."


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

 **Three Days Previously**

Nancy wandered among the catalogued auction pieces on display throughout the viewing area and gallery. Each item bore an allocation number, which denoted its position in the auction catalogue, and ultimately the order in which it would be sold in a week's time.

Several people milled casually about - picking up items, checking maker's marks, and peering through magnifying glasses or eye pieces. Everyone whispered to each other, not wanting to give away potentially secret finds.

Nancy wasn't interested in anyone other than _one_ man. This particular gentleman had, suspiciously, been at every auction where items had been replaced with forgeries. Although not personally having attended all the auctions, she'd spotted him on video surveillance footage.

He drew attention to himself as a matter of course, due to his choice of attire. He dressed in fluorescent colored pants (often yellows and greens), tweed jackets, formal shirts, bright vests and bowties in a variety of gaudy hues. On his feet…a pair of red boots, which made Nancy want to ask if he was off to see the Wizard. On his lip lived a carefully waxed, swirly moustache. Perched on the end his nose were half glasses on a chain, which were also clashingly garish.

The only problem - where he lacked the ability to blend in, he more than made up for by not being caught doing anything wrong!

Nancy watched him as he loitered at the jewellery section. He raised his hand at the Auctioneer's Assistant and asked to be shown a variety of items. Eventually, he settled his full attention on a diamond tennis bracelet.

Nancy waited until he concentrated fully on the sparkly chain, then positioned herself on the other side of the jewellery display cases. She smiled at the Auctioneer's Assistant and asked to view a delicate garnet necklace. She borrowed a magnifying glass and proceeded to 'inspect' the jewel carefully, while pinning one eye on her suspect.

He did something odd and drew her attention - something with his magnifying eye glass. She watched as he pushed it to his eye, leaned over, but then used his free hand to spin it. An odd manuever, and one she hadn't seen anyone else do. Curiosity overtook.

Nancy returned the garnet necklace and meandered around to the other side of the display cases while pretending to look at items through the glass topped cabinets. Eventually, she reached his shoulder, and quickly stole a look. His game play became clear, very quickly - in his fingers _wasn't_ a magnifying eye piece, but a tiny spy camera. He snapped pictures of the bracelet from every angle. _"You sneaky devil!"_ she thought. His trick - to snap photos of the items, return home, produce fakes, then perform the ol' switcheroo on auction day!

"Can I help you with anything?" the Auctioneer's Assistant asked her.

He looked over his shoulder and caught Nancy spying.

Nancy smiled brightly at him. "I want to take a look at the piece you're viewing. You were concentrating so hard I didn't want to disturb." Though she smiled pleasantly, inside she thought, _'Aw no!'_

He turned fully and showed her the bracelet. "Isn't it exquisite?"

"It's beautiful. May I?" She held her hand out and he draped the bracelet over her wrist and locked it in place. He retained a light hold on her hand and rotated her wrist. The movement caused the diamonds to reflect brightly, and all the colors of the spectrum to radiate out from deep within each, brilliant stone. Genuinely dazzled by the sight of it, Nancy felt a little intimidated.

He spoke to her in a low, soft tone. "Look at the diamonds. They're of the highest quality and cut with hardly any inclusions…imperfections. The stones are incredibly clear, the cut so exact the light's striking each facet at the ideal angle, throwing out the maximum refraction possible. This is the work of an artist, someone at the top of their profession. People always think carat size's king, but my advice's to always look for clarity and cut, not size. You suit diamonds. It looks truly stunning on your wrist. You should be with a chap who will buy you diamonds."

"I wish." Nancy wrinkled her nose. "Perhaps one day I'll be able to afford something so striking." She looked at him, and he regarded her thoughtfully.

"Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Would you help me take it off? I think it's too flashy for me. I'm looking for something simpler." She glanced up at one of the grandfather clocks. "Goodness! Look at the time. I have to meet my husband. Thank you for showing me the bracelet, and for sharing your expertise - not everyone's as open."

"You're welcome. Tell him to buy you diamonds!" he said sincerely, and unclipped the chain. He turned away and continued to inspect it with his eye glass/camera.

Nancy retreated and made her way to the front of the show room. She liked the man, despite his crookedness. Although she'd worked out how he'd swapped the items for forgeries, she needed to get absolute proof. She would follow him to his base and catch him in the act. Unfortunately, he now knew what she looked like, so she needed to be clever with the time left.

She quickly headed for the front desk to speak to Bernadette, who she'd spotted on rotation. Luckily, there were no clients at the reception desk, only Bernadette with her head bent over some paperwork. "Hey Bernie," Nancy said, and pulled the receptionist's attention from the papers. "You know the guy with the clown clothes?"

"The one with the yellow pants and moustache?"

"Do you know who he is?"

"Why?"

"I think he's our man, so I mean to follow him."

"Really? He seems so charming."

"He is. He's lovely. Doesn't mean he's not a naughty boy."

Bernadette laughed and swung her chair to the computer and tapped. "You're in luck. He registered this morning so I have his contact details. Do you want a print out?"

"Spin the screen and let me see it. I've got a photographic memory so I only have to read it. He's about to leave, so I'm in a rush."

"An eidetic memory? Useful in your line of work." Bernadette showed Nancy the screen.

Nancy stilled and scanned the contents through quickly. "Albert Keane from…cool! He's from Bayport. It'll make my job easier. I have friends in Bayport who can follow up on it. Gotta go, but I'll be back later."

"Don't forget to pick up your fee, I'll have it ready for you."

"I will. See you later."

Bernadette's attention returned to her task.

Nancy left and entered the restroom to the side of the exit doors. She moved into one of the stalls, quickly took her jacket off and turned it inside out. She thanked her lucky stars she'd chosen to wear her reversible coat, as it afforded her a quick image change. It provided her with the means to trail her suspect without him, hopefully, sussing she's the girl to whom he'd clipped thousands of dollars worth of diamonds.

She next pulled her jeans free of her knee-high boots and smoothed them over the outside. She grabbed a hair band from her bag, top knotted her strawberry blonde hair, and used her floaty scarf to cover the knot. She put her coat on, fished her reading glasses from her bag, and popped them on. When she came out of the stall and looked at herself, she had to admit, for a quick disguise, she'd done a bang-up job.

Nancy exited the restroom with the hope she'd not missed Mr Keane. She pulled her bag up onto her shoulder and walked by the reception desk to find him. As she drew level, she picked up something in her peripheral vision. It made her go cold and her heart to speed up. Something deep-down and animalistic told her to be very… _very…_ careful. She moved her head slightly to see what had caused her raw reaction.

A man and woman were talking to Bernadette. The man held his arm out, offering something, which Bernie took. She looked down at it, back up at him and then retreated away into the office. Inexplicably, she then locked herself in and ran to the phone.

The woman moved, said something to the man, and they turned.

For the moment Nancy froze in the middle of the viewing area unable to move, eyes levelled on the man. He bore a face she knew, and one that made her wish she didn't have an eidetic memory so she could forget him. This man had kidnapped her from the Bayport Library. He'd thrown the undercover Network Agent off the cliff in front of her for saving Joe's life…and then laughed. He'd tormented her with threats of violence, death... and worse. He'd delighted in describing in graphic detail what would happen to Frank Hardy once they captured him. Arthur Gray had _sworn_ The Network had locked this man up, the damn LIAR!

 _'_ _How? How can he be here? HOW!'_

Albert Keane walked by Nancy's field of vision, but she barely noticed him, all thoughts of tailing him gone.

If they were to notice her, Nancy's knew her face would have told a thousand stories, and none of them good. So she dropped her gaze quickly, and turned away as casually as she could. She turned and headed for the exit doors, aware the couple were now walking up behind her, getting closer. She bit her lip and swallowed down a whimper, her back crawling like there were a thousand bugs running up and down her spine. It took every, single morsel of willpower not to run for her life. The couple were now so close she could hear their conversation.

 _"_ _I told you the badge wouldn't fool anyone"_ The woman said, angrily.

 _"_ _We'll find her."_

 _"_ _I'll instruct them to continue staking the place out and snatch her when she returns. We're still monitoring her home and phone, we'll catch her; it's only a matter of time."_

They walked either side of Nancy and passed by without glancing her way.

The Red-Headed Man said, _"I want Frank Hardy."_

 _"_ _You underestimated Hardy before, don't do it again. Stop letting thoughts of revenge color your view. Do I need to remind you Nancy Drew's the one who destroyed Pandora and not Hardy? She knows what_ _he_ _knows, she's the one with the eidetic memory, we need her! We'll be spreading our chances of success by—"_

They were through the door and out the other side, so Nancy couldn't hear them anymore. By the time Nancy emerged through the gold doors, the couple had quickened their pace and put a good distance between her and them.

Nancy turned in the opposite direction, slipped her hand into her pocket, and extracted her cell phone. As she passed a trash bin, she reached out and dropped her cell into it without breaking stride. She looked back to see the couple way off into the distance. The two security guards from the auction house were watching them. She picked up speed and began to run, eventually going at a full pelt in the opposite direction. Her headscarf came away, lost in her panic to get away.

-o0o-

Fenton spoke to Doctor Cox about Frank. "If someone has been in his head before you, and has implanted false memories, it would sure explain a lot." His face darkened, "There's something else. Frank and Nancy went their separate ways our months ago with no warning. They were happy one day and literally overnight, Nancy packed her bags and travelled home."

Doctor Cox frowned. "Why? They were bonded tightly and consensually reliant on one another."

"Said they couldn't make a long-distance relationship work. Never an issue before. It suited them. Now he can't recall her phone number and refers to her as _'Nancy Drew'_ as though she's someone he once knew - an acquaintance. We've attempted to tackle him on it, but he shuts us down. Sometimes, it's aggressive. Nancy's father says she's acting out of character too."

Emily wrinkled her nose suspiciously and turned thoughtfully to Frank. "I hoped to avoid exploring personal issues as he's so anxious. Do you mind if I try something bolder?"

"Is it the dance from _Saturday Night Fever_?

"Erm…no."

"Then go for it."

She leaned and held onto Frank's hands. "Frank, we're going to move you on to when you and Nancy had your first conversation about your relationship not working."

"Okay."

"Frank. Where are you?"

"I'm at home."

"Where's _'home'_?"

"My apartment."

"Is Nancy there?"

"Yes she's here."

"Is anyone else with you?"

Still sat, his head came slowly up. He drew himself rigid and leaned forward. His eyelids opened, and he stared unblinkingly back at Emily from about an inch away, his eyes dead, dark and intense. His reaction threw her, but she held his gaze and tried to read him. Her eyes shifted from one brown orb to the other.

Fenton leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder.

She let go of Frank. "What is it?" she asked, not breaking her stare.

"That's the exact look he gave Vanessa across the table last night when she tried to talk to him about Nancy. Gave her a scare. He had a kind of controlled melt down. Sorry, I'm being contradictory. How can anyone have a _controlled meltdown_?"

She chortled. "Knowing Frank as I do, it's probably a fair description." She returned her hand to Frank. "You all right?"

"Yes."

Emily drew back and shared a frown with Fenton. Frank's voice had gone deeper and his vocal pattern clipped, precise and quickened, not in any way like his previous voice.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine."

She let go. "Fenton, I'm going to ask Frank a strange question, but there's a good reason. Don't be alarmed by it." She returned to Frank and for an instant she looked worried, but fascinated, all at the same time. "Am I speaking to Frank Hardy?"

"Yes."

Emily let go and sighed. "I'm almost disappointed, nearly had a landmark case on my hands then! If he'd said 'no' we could have had a real problem on our hands."

"I thought you said not to be alarmed?"

"Even psychiatrists lie," she said with a half smile. "But seriously, we're not out of the woods yet." She returned to Frank. "Are you and Nancy alone?"

"No."

She glanced at Fenton. "How many other people are with you, Frank?"

"Four."

"Men, women, or both?"

"Men."

"Is Nancy in the room with you?"

"No."

"Where is she?"

"The bathroom."

"On her own?"

"No."

"Who's she with, Frank?"

"A woman."

"Why's Nancy in the bathroom?"

"Getting ready."

"To go out?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"A club."

"What for?"

"To celebrate."

"Celebrate what, Frank?"

"James moving in with the Benders."

"I remember that night," Fenton said. "I surprised them by being there."

Doctor Cox put her finger to her lips to silence him. "Frank, do you know who these men are who are in your apartment?"

"One."

"Who?"

"Can't say."

"Why not?"

"It's an order."

"Don't do what this man's telling you, Frank, tell me who he is."

"No."

"Is he giving you instructions right now?"

"Yes."

"What's he saying?"

"It's none of your _business_!" Frank dropped his chin further and glared at her.

She rubbed her chin for a while flummoxed. Eventually she said, "Frank, is this man a physical person, or someone you've made up in your head?"

"He exists."

"Does he work at your detective agency?"

"No."

"Tell me his name."

"No."

"Get up and leave the room."

"NO!"

"Wait a moment, Frank." Emily released his hands and turned to Fenton. "He's obstinate and my questions are annoying him. These one and two word answers are exhausting. I see exactly what you mean about his aggression levels and controlled meltdowns." She switched to Frank and reached to put her palm on him, but then paused in thought, and turned back to Fenton. "Remember the time when Frank slept and I told you to force him to react to you?"

"Of course. I felt like a bullying shit."

"I need you to do it again, but I want you to order Frank to tell you the name of this man. Whoever this is, he wields a strong influence. It needs someone who's an authority figure to Frank to stand up to him. That's not me. This man has been manipulating Frank and Nancy, and I strongly believe it's where the aggression stems from. If you can break through the mental wall, it might reawaken the memories. I don't like to ask, as it goes against everything I'd usually do, but I'm stumped at this juncture."

"Let me at him." Fenton said.

Emily took Frank's hands. "Frank, listen carefully. Your Dad will be speaking to you now, and I want you to answer him and do what he says. It's important you do what he asks, do you understand?"

"Yes."

She let go of Frank, got up out of the chair and indicated for Fenton to sit down in her place. He sat down and regarded his son for a couple of seconds. "Should I hold his hands?"

"Please, he won't hear you otherwise and it makes for a stronger connection."

Fenton reached and latched on. "Erm, wow this is _weird._ Frank?"

"Yes."

"The man. Is he still telling you not to say anything?"

"Yes."

"Tell him to take a hike and tell me who he is."

"No."

"Come on Frank, who is he?"

"I don't have to tell you _anything_!"

"Frank, tell me who I am."

"Fenton Hardy."

"True but more specifically who am I to _you_ , Son?"

"My Dad."

Fenton's voice rose and adopted his 'Dad' tone. "Too damn right I am. And Dad trumps some coward sitting in your living room telling you, and Nancy, how to live your lives. Tell me who this man IS!"

"NO!"


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Fenton knew from the way Frank delivered the final, determined, _"NO!"_ , that persuading him to give up the man through pure coercion, or by wielding _'Action-Dad Power',_ wasn't going to work. He glanced at Doctor Cox and let go of Frank's hands. "Just how aggressive's he likely to get?" He raised challenging eyebrows.

"Whatever it is you're thinking of doing, do it," Emily said. "There's no right or wrong way. Go with your instinct. You can control him if he gets really aggressive - send him to dance with Nancy."

"Right." Fenton turned back, and put his palm on his Frank's hand. "Look at me, Son," he commanded. He dropped his chin and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked out from under his lashes and emulated Frank's dark gaze back at him. "I don't like the way you're looking at me Frank, and I don't like the disrespectful way you've talked to Emily," Fenton said slowly in a deep voice.

Frank blinked, the first movement his eyes had made since he'd taken to staring.

Fenton tipped his head, and leaned in closer. "We can both do the dead-eyed glare, and I don't like it. Frank, I want you to tell me who the man is, right now."

"I can't—"

"Right NOW!"

"I ca—"

"Frank Hardy, I'm not putting up with your insolence and rudeness to Emily who _you_ asked to help. You fess up or there'll be trouble. RIGHT NOW!"

"I—"

"RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MAN!"

Frank's gaze dropped and he said, "Arthur Gray."

Fenton let go of Frank, and stood up quickly. "DAMN THE MAN!"

"I'm guessing you know this Arthur Gray?"

"I know _of_ him and none of it good!"

"You ought to consider a career change, Fenton, you're good at this." Emily settled back into the seat. "Oh, you need to turn Frank back over to me."

Fenton returned, put a hand over his son's and bent closer. "Frank, Emily's going to speak to you now and you'll only respond to her." He let go, but then returned his hand, "—but only if she's touching you, okay Frank?"

"I understand." His voice had softened and his shoulders had drooped.

Fenton let go.

Emily pointed to her desk, "Fenton, grab the pad of paper. Let's see if I can pry the code out of him." She placed her hands on top of Frank, but when she looked at his face, she placed one of her palms on the side of his neck. "You okay, Frank?"

"No, I'm not."

"Where are the men and the woman?"

"They've gone."

"And Nancy?"

A long pause this time, before, "She's gone too."

"From the apartment?"

"No."

Emily realized what he'd meant when he initially answered _'no'_ as his eyes moistened and turned glassy. "I'm sorry Frank."

Frank's eyes closed and he slumped away.

"Frank, can you remember the code now?"

"Yes I can."

Emily pointed at the notebook and Fenton readied himself with the pen. "Tell it to me."

"It's 5336-4910-6843-1810."

Fenton stuck his thumb up, pulled the sheet of paper free of the pad, and shoved it into his inside pocket.

"Good, Frank, Well done. I'm sorry it's been stressful. Have a short rest. Go and dance with Nancy." She removed her hands and turned once more to Fenton. "I can tell you were worried, Fenton, but please be assured there's absolutely _nothing_ wrong with Frank's state of mind. This whole thing is caused by this Arthur Gray pushing down his memories, implanting new ones and forcefully severing him emotionally from Nancy. Nothing to do with what Frank went through previously."

"You're one hundred percent certain?"

"I'll stake my professional reputation on it. In fact, Frank's stronger now than before he suffered the trauma. If he hadn't been so strong, then what Arthur Gray did would have put him back into therapy, probably worse."

"Really?"

"Yes. Dangerous - an assault as far as I'm concerned. You need to find Nancy and bring her to me. Frank's strong, but it doesn't mean Nancy's as well prepared." She pursed her lips and turned to Frank. "I'm pulling him out of the trance now. Be ready, because I don't know how he'll react and I won't be able to control him once he's fully awake. He's understandably upset. To be honest, I am too. Arthur Gray could have set Frank's recovery back months, maybe more. How DARE he!"

"Arthur Gray dares to do a lot of things he shouldn't." Fenton muttered and moved to sit next to Frank on the sofa. "The man's arrogance knows no bounds."

Emily shuffled closer to Frank, and slid one of her hands to his elbow. She moved her face closer so she could talk quietly to him. "Frank, I'm going to count backward from five, when I get to one, you'll wake up and you'll remember everything we've talked about. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Listen carefully, Five…four…three…two…one."

Frank's eyes opened and his head sharply rose. For a second he froze, and then he took a sharp intake of air and leaned forward. He covered his eyes with the back of his free hand, gritted his teeth, and painfully swallowed.

"I'm sorry, Frank," Emily said again, and continued to hold his hand. "Do you want us to leave you on your own?"

His head shook.

Fenton went, dispensed some water from a machine in the corner of the office, and returned to hand the cup to Frank. He sat down next to him and rubbed between his shoulder blades.

Frank took a drink, a couple of deep breaths and straightened. "They were already in my apartment with Nancy when I got home. Gray said he needed to make us forget details of the case for reasons of national security. He didn't say he would break us up. I would never have agreed if I'd known," his voice broke, so he paused, took another sip of the water and coughed. "Those memories were _so real._ Arthur had me believing Nan and I held a conversation in my bathroom about our future, about how hard a long distance relationship would be. Then after, it seemed hopeless, so we threw the towel in. It worked so quickly!" He grimaced and took another drink. "I feel so _dumb_. Something else, the woman with Nancy in the bathroom? Same woman who spiked my drink."

"You sure, Son?"

"Auburn haired and blue eyed, but definitely the same woman. THAT part I remember with clarity, the rest - it's still hazy right now." Frank ran his fingers through his hair. "I gotta put things right and get Nan back."

"We will, Junior."

Frank squeezed Doctor Cox's hand tighter. "Emily, would you be able to help Nan the same way you've helped me if I bring her to you?"

"You bring her and if she lets me, I'll rid her head of him. Who's this Arthur Gray? I'd like the opportunity to have him removed as a therapist."

"He isn't a therapist. You don't want to know who he is and it's probably best you don't." Frank addressed his father, "You got the code?"

"I got it." Fenton started to pull it from his pocket, but Frank shook his head.

"You don't need to show it me. I know what it is, but keep it safe and for goodness sake don't let me see it. Emily, I need you to go into my head and bury it again, but really deeply this time."

 _"_ _What?"_ Fenton blurted.

"Look, put aside the fact Arthur Gray shouldn't have interfered with Nancy and me, he _must_ have a good reason for making me forget the code. I need to get rid of it temporarily, until we know why." Frank turned imploringly to Emily. "Can you do it? Can you bury it so deep anyone else trying the same thing won't be able to get it out of me?"

Emily looked from Fenton to Frank. "Yes, but is it what you want? Is what you're asking me to do safe?"

"It's more what's needed than what's wanted."

She levelled a look at Fenton and he gave a shoulder roll. "Do it. He's the boss."

"Dad, I need you to leave the room for this. I don't want any slip-ups. This needs to be airtight. Can you speak to Joe and Con and tell him what Arthur did? With luck, they've not caught up with him yet, and they can use the intel."

-o0o-

Con slipped, nearly ending up on his backside. In his hands he held two coffees, and his clumsiness caused hot liquid to spill over his hands. He caught himself, looking to see Joe quickly exit the car, an amused smirk on his face.

Joe took the cups. "And so the great knight, Sir Con Riley, realizes the futility of having abandoned his protective gauntlets."

Con wiped his hands down his jeans. "On the contrary, Chump, if I hadn't taken off my gloves, not only would I have given myself a third degree burn but they would have been soaked too." He reached for one of the drinks. As he took it, his phone rang. He returned the cup and reached for his cell. "It's your Dad," he reported. "Hi Fen, how goes it?"

 _"_ _You somewhere quiet? You with Arthur Gray yet?"_

"No sign of the great man. We're outside the car. We'll get back in."

 _"_ _If you could."_

Con opened the passenger door, and Joe climbed in. He slammed the door and walked around to the other side. By the time he dropped into the driver's seat, his drink had been stashed in the cup holder. Con positioned the phone between the two of them on the dashboard. "Flash, you're on loud speaker so Joe can listen in."

"Hi Dad. How's the session going, how's Frank tolerating it?"

 _"_ _It's thrown up some heavy stuff we didn't know about."_

"Aw crap, no! Has it affected him badly? We know he's been wobbling."

 _"_ _He wasn't 'wobbling', his mental state had nothing to do with his anger and aggression levels. An outside influence came into play. Doctor Cox helped better than we could have hoped. I know what's been going on, and it's nothing to do with him having a relapse or not being able to cope. His brain wasn't trying to protect him by forgetting the code, his brain's healthy!" Fenton laughed feverishly._

Joe looked at Con and shook his head. "Dad, you okay? You sound a bit off-line yourself."

 _"_ _Yes, yes. I'm relieved. I didn't think I'd be coming back with him."_

"What…Dad?"

 _"_ _It made me a nervous wreck! More nervous about it than Frank."_

"Well, you hid it well," Con said.

 _"_ _I had to. If this hadn't worked, I'd decided to have him admitted to the Psyche Ward for his own safety. If Frank gave me a phone before today, I would have had them waiting at the door for us when we got here."_

"Dad!" Joe exclaimed and audibly slapped his own forehead. "DUH!"

Con raised incredulous hands at the phone. "Fen, it's got to have been the _worst_ plan in the history of Planning Management! You can't have someone locked up in a secure psyche unit because you're _worried_ about them. Doc Cox would have laughed in your face. I can imagine the conversation now, _'You know my son who successfully completed his therapy, and has been on an even keel for months? Well, I think he's still off his rocker, because he doesn't want to talk about his ex-girlfriend, and he can't remember some numbers…so could you do me a favor and lock him up? Oh and by the way, he's so crazy he runs a successful business, in his spare time which out-earns the lot of us'_ They'd have admitted _you_ , not him. Do yourself a favor and never speak of this again."

"Don't Dad, Frank'll never forgive you." Joe crossed his eyes at Con and put his drink into his cup holder. "Leaving aside probably the dumbest moment of your life…can you be more specific? What exactly happened? Why were we seeing the mood swings?"

 _"_ _Because damn Arthur Gray hypnotized Frank and Nancy and walked around in their heads, obliterating Pandora in their minds, and split them up._ _Frank's brain has been forced to break down all emotional connections between him and poor Nancy. We were witnessing_ _that_ _, not an erosion of his mental state. Gray programmed him to react aggressively to questions about Nancy, to reduce the chances of them coming into contact with one another. I assume Nancy is in the same state of mind, which's why she's not been in touch. She's probably not aware something strange is happening."_

"The Network per responsible all along? How did Gray manage to hypnotize them without their permission?" Con asked.

 _"_ _Unbelievably, they_ _gave_ _their permission!"_

"No way! Even Nancy?" Joe didn't want to believe it.

 _"_ _Even the usually resolute Nancy fell for it. From what Frank said, Gray sold it as a matter of national security - he needed them to forget specific areas of the Pandora case. And the woman who spiked Frank's drink? She's with The Network and just as involved with the hypnotism session."_

"Where's Frank now?" Con asked.

 _"_ _With Emily."_

"Still with the Doc? Why?"

 _"_ _That's the thing worrying me now. Frank asked Emily to rebury the code in his head. He said Gray must have a good reason for wanting it forgotten! I don't understand why Frank's continuing to tread this loyalty path of his."_

"Maybe it's nothing to do with loyalty to Gray. Flash, you're gonna have to trust Frank's judgement; he's the boss on this one."

Joe's head moved in Con's peripheral vision as he focused on someone as they walked across the parking lot outside The Network HQ. Con leaned forward to get a better look, but in one smooth movement, Joe shoved the door open and belted off across the lot toward his quarry.

"JOE, GET BACK HERE!" Con yelled, and leapt out the door to take off around the car. He knew he didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of getting there in time, and half of him celebrated as Joe took justice into his own hands. Goodness knows the little guy in gray, and wire-rimmed glasses deserved everything coming to him, but Con also knew it would result in Joe getting locked up.

In a matter of seconds, Joe headed off the little man, and delivered a punch which came in so solid and fast it took the man off his feet and onto his back. Joe followed it up with a boot to the side and sent Gray sliding. Although Con couldn't stop that, he tackled Joe around the shoulders before he could do any more damage…though the weight of both men coming to land on Gray must have come as a crushing force.

Joe continued screaming insults at Gray and tried to get at him, even as Con hauled him away. After a prolonged struggle, Con finally got Joe into an arm lock, but knew it wouldn't be for long if Joe continued to fight so hard.

Gray sat up, held his face and stared at the struggling men in amazement - a small miracle his glasses were still in one piece, although they'd been driven up his face and into his eye socket. His eye watered badly.

Con somehow moved Joe into a firmer hold, and turned angry eyes on the little man. "I take it you're Arthur Gray? Nice to meet you at last, you slimy piece of filth!"

"Con Riley," Arthur said.

"Yeah, and I'm a nice guy. If I wasn't, I'd walk away and let Joe finish the job. You're lucky Fenton isn't here instead of me. You couldn't let Frank move on with his life could you? You _had_ to be in charge!"

Arthur Gray's gaze went beyond the two struggling men, and Con turned to see four security guards run toward them. He swivelled back to Gray to find him getting up off the ground. He had to give the little guy credit for toughness, Con doubted he'd be able to get up so quickly if Joe landed one of those bone crunchers on him.

Grey stood, got a handkerchief from his pocket and pushed it to his bloody nose. He held a hand up to the uniformed officers. "Stand down," he said to them. Three of them stopped, but one still approached and unhooked a nightstick from his belt with a determined expression.

Con let Joe go, turned his body full on the man coming for them, and took a step forward. He audibly slapped his chest twice and held his arms out wide. "Oh, _yeah_? C'mon Buddy, let's dance. Over twenty years a cop, and you think you're gonna take me on? I'd love to show you who's the man. Let's even the score, Network versus Hardy Inc!"

Joe loomed up behind him. "You heard the man, you dancing?"

The guard stopped, realising he'd misread the situation, that Con and Joe were actually together. It gave Arthur time to step around them and stand in front of Con. "I gave you a direct order to step down. Put the weapon away and return to the building."

"But, Sir—"

"I said GO! And whatever happens, _do not interfere_."

The four security officers glanced at one another and walked away.

Con looked at Joe, "Feel better for having belted him?"

"Yep."

"Good." Con grabbed Arthur by his trench coat, yanked him almost off his feet, and frog marched him to their car. When he got there he opened the rear door and threw Gray into the back. "You stay there Mr Gray, and don't move."

"I have no intention of doing so."

Con slammed the door on him and turned to Joe. "We've got him where we want him, and it seems he's happy to talk…or he wouldn't have let you beat the crap out of him, and then let you walk away."

"Can I carry on then?"

"No, but I think we might be able to get some real answers. And for the record, nice punch. Good technique, great follow through, explosive power delivered right through the shoulder."

"Thanks…I guess."


	17. Chapter 17

**I had a question from an anonymous reviewer asking how far ahead I planned the story. Firstly - thank you for the great feedback. I actually didn't plan this story in advance. I had an idea of where it was going to go, but I didn't know how I was going to get there. I sat down at the keyboard and the story developed as it went along. I write all my stories completely before I start posted them up, so if I have an idea, I can go back and alter the story to fit it in. I think I've only ever plotted one story before I started, and that one ended up way different in the end. So I don't bother, I just go with a rough idea and build a story around it.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 17**

Con and Joe stood outside their car, preparing mentally for the questions they would be asking Arthur Gray. The little man sat in the back of the vehicle waiting for them, but Joe needed to calm down before Con would allow anything to proceed. He didn't want Joe to let fly in the confined space of a car. Suddenly, they were aware of a droning sound coming from the interior of the car and leaned down to look in.

"Oops, your Dad's still on the phone, giving Gray a mouthful."

"Dude, it's therapeutic."

Joe moved to the other side of the car, sliding onto the back seat next to Arthur Gray. Con waited until Joe settled and Arthur had no intention, or way, to escape, before he climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door.

Through the Con's phone speaker on the dashboard, Fenton raved lividly at Gray, each word punctuated and harsh, but articulate. Arthur wasn't offering any views himself, just stared coolly while holding his nose. Joe grinned, enjoying himself, as his Dad gave it to Gray with both barrels.

"Fen…FEN!" Con said loudly, and pulled Fenton's attention away from his own shouts.

 _"_ _WHAT?"_

"Three's a crowd, my friend. Leave it with us. Go and finish up with Frank."

 _"_ _He's still in with the Doc."_

"So within hearing distance?"

It silenced Fenton. _"I'll speak to you later. Take no prisoners, Zarkof."_

"Haven't so far, Flash."

Con took his phone from the dashboard, checked Fenton had rung off, and slipped the cell into his inside pocket. He turned around to Arthur Gray and watched him in silence.

Arthur looked from Con to Joe and then back, but failed to make solid eye contact. "This is a pretty mess, isn't it?"

" _A pretty mess_?" Joe raised his eyebrows. "To you, this is _'a pretty mess'_? Frank had moved on with his life and in a good place. He _and_ Nancy were in a good place, and then _you_ happened again. Why him? I mean, in the first place, why choose him?"

Arthur sighed. "Frank's the perfect partner for Pandora. Measured, organized, intelligent, refined, and willing to die for his country. He's an adult, not a man-child with limited self-control and—"

"Whatever, Arthur, move on. I wasn't asking for a character assassination or a job interview, I asked why _him_ and not one of your  own?"

"He's better than my own. You both are - obvious from the first time we met you're head and shoulders above my agents. Rare commodities, extraordinary personalities. Wasted as pure detectives. I doubt you realize your combined worths. Or at least _your_ worth, Joseph. Frank wouldn't command quite the same heady heights, since he lost his mind."

Joe tensed and his teeth cracked together.

"I'm being honest."

"Jesus Christ," Con muttered. "You're one piece o' work."

Joe calmly opened the door, got out and walked away from the car. He paced a few times, took some deep breaths, and returned to the car. "You promised Frank the Pandora Posse would never be released from prison."

"And?"

Con said, "You had no business making promises you couldn't keep. We've had to go underground because the Posse have been hunting us. I'm speaking from the experience of someone almost gunned down in the street yesterday - they tried to shoot my _son_ and he had nothing to do with this!"

"So I understand, but it's not the Pandora Posse, as you self-titled them. Those original members are deceased."

Joe and Con paused and stared at one another. "Dead?" Con asked. He needed to seek clarification he heard correctly. "Dead?" he repeated. Confusion reigned.

"They met with unfortunate accidents. One died in a prison riot, one murdered by a fellow prisoner he had a disagreement with, another slipped in the shower - tragic. And the leader? He decided life wasn't worth living without his associates and hung himself. Trust me when I say, they're no longer a threat to anyone, let alone Frank."

Con laughed mirthlessly. "You had them assassinated."

"I didn't say that, but it would have been justifiable. As it happens, they met with a series of untimely accidents out of our control."

"For arguments sake, let us say they _were_ assassinated, theoretically speaking of course, why would it have been justifiable when they were under lock and key?"

"Because of Pandora."

Joe leaned back and stared out the windshield. "You did something, didn't you?"

Arthur's head dropped slightly. "As Nancy Drew destroyed Pandora, we downloaded a single copy of the game. Yes, _we did something_."

Joe put his hands over his eyes. "You're freakin' IDIOTS! Why couldn't you let her DIE?"

"Joseph—"

Con glared at Arthur, he didn't like the tone of chastisement Gray adopted when addressing Joe. As though talking to a stupid child with an inability to grasp onto or obey simplest of instruction.

Arthur continued on his patronising path, "Pandora's the single greatest software program since the conception of the internet. I would have been remiss in my duties if I hadn't taken steps to protect her. She's not a thing you simply allow to _'die'_. So we downloaded and planned on holding her in storage, until technology and intelligence moved on enough for us to revisit her potential."

"Joe's right, you _are_ idiots."

Gray ignored Con's comment and carried on, "One day, we realized Pandora had been taken from the secure storage facility, and had disappeared. A few months later, a hitherto trusted member of my team followed suit - the person who took Pandora, and privy to information about Frank, Nancy and the original investigation."

"A short woman?" Con asked.

"How did you know that?"

"Because the same woman tried to drug Frank yesterday and today Frank visited a hypnotist because he realized he couldn't remember the code. She featured in both scenarios."

Arthur finally looked Con fully in the eye at this obviously new piece of information.

"Yep. Your interference has been uncovered, about how you slithered about in his mind and messed with his life. He knows everything."

Arthur, at long last, showed some emotion - he signed heavily. "An unwise move on Frank's part. I hoped I had hidden the code well enough it couldn't be uncovered. I did it for his safety. What he's done is a naive thing. I'm their protector not their enemy."

Joe growled. "How's Frank supposed to know? If you didn't want him to uncover it by accident, then why weren't you up front about it, instead of manipulating him? It's not naivety if you don't have any information to make an informed decision."

"The only reason he and Nancy are alive today is because of what _I_ did. The original gang are dead because of what they knew. They were a threat which had to be eliminated. Frank and Nancy were on the same list for execution, but I negotiated with those in Authority to have their names removed. They agreed, but with the caveat I shut them down."

"Shut them down?" Con asked.

"I had to separate Nancy and Frank, end their association. If I hadn't, it would have been only natural for them to go over old ground with the Pandora case, and they may have reawakened those memories."

"And it didn't occur to you a new Pandora Posse going after Frank would cause him to discuss the case again, and then seek out a way to reopen those memories?"

Arthur went quiet.

"I'm gonna assume your silence means you either didn't think of that threat, or you broke them up for your own self-gratification, because Frank and Nancy didn't do as they were told at the end.".

"No, you're wrong. The new Pandora gang could catch and kill them, but that's not a one hundred percent certainty. The threat from those in Authority? It's an inevitable death sentence, a bullet-in-the-back-of-the-head certainty they wouldn't see coming. No threats, no intimidation, just hard, cold death. I had no choice but to separate them."

Con gulped. He didn't like how white the pallor of Joe's face had become. "What fresh hell you talking about, Gray? _'Those in Authority'_? What's that supposed to mean? Who're these people in Authority?"

"They are people who sit on high, dangerous people, the powers behind the throne. To be honest, I don't know who they are, but I know the threat they pose to Frank and Nancy. I had to act in their best interest."

"If what you've told us is true, and I'm not convinced by it…I think you're a fantasist…then how can we stop it…them?"

"Remove the global threat. Kill Pandora but do it properly this time—"

"Nancy did it properly the LAST time. YOU bunch of bumbling idiots messed it up - don't lay it at our door!" Joe shouted, starting to lose it again.

Gray sighed condescendingly and continued. "If you kill Pandora, then those in Authority won't have a reason to pursue Frank or Nancy. And take measures to remove the threat of this new gang, because although the original members of the Pandora Posse who were incarcerated are dead, one did escape justice."

"One?"

"One member wasn't at the school, didn't get on the chopper. I didn't fly him out, and afterwards he eluded all attempts at capture. Only two of the Pandora Posse were party to the code and he wasn't one of them - but he knows Frank and Nancy know it. And the man's an unadulterated psychopath. He will take pleasure in torturing the information out of Frank, and after will take immense gratification in taking him out of this world. It won't be quick, and it won't be painless. He intends to take revenge and that's more important to him than the code. He wants Frank and he wants to break him. This is the cold, honest truth. Suppose me a fantasist if it makes you feel better, Constantine Riley, but I'm warning you…these people are not to be underestimated."

Joe opened the car door and got out. He walked over to the nearest tree and leaned against it. He didn't return to the car; he crouched down with the back of his hand over his mouth.

Arthur switched from watching Joe to watching Con and waited for him to say something, but Con, thinking, offered nothing. "This conversation has reached a natural conclusion I think," Arthur said arrogantly and reached into his pocket for his car keys. "Joseph's indeed a great commodity, but I realize he will never be a suitable fit to an organisation like The Network, so I won't watch or pursue him any longer." He opened the door wide and readied himself to leave. "I don't know what you and your family and friends plan to do, but whatever it is, do it well and do it hard. This time The Network won't try to stop you. We won't interfere - consider it my gift to you."

Con snorted and looked him up and down. "Frank and Joe aren't just better than your agents, they're better than _you_. Setting a timer and then walking away while the explosion goes off behind you isn't a gift, it's a _coward's_ way out, it's not something the Hardy Boys would ever do. They would never throw one of us to the lions." He laughed, "You might have been able to fool them, but you don't fool me. The real truth is you're out of your depth with Pandora."

Arthur looked at his car keys.

"You didn't know what to do with Pandora, so you turned her over to someone better than you. You knew if you involved Frank, he would have no choice but to pull Joe and Fenton into it. You used them because you couldn't take care of business yourself. Frank wasn't babysitting Pandora, he babysat _you_."

Arthur jiggled the keys.

"The reason you throw guarded and clever insults about Joe being a man-child and Frank being damaged is because you're intimidated by them. You need to keep them in their place, so you can use them as an easy and cheap resource. Frank's more gullible than Joe, and that's the only reason you picked him, nothing to do with Joe's limited self-control, or lack of intelligence. You know as well as I do Joe's style of detecting's as effective as Frank's - more so in a lot of cases, because his street style blends in better. And he's smart, real smart, just not as ridiculously smart as Frank."

Arthur paused for a beat before he exited the car, not able to resist turning and leaning to say something.

Con pre-empted him. "Don't try a clever put-down line with me, little man. I'm way too long in the tooth." Con quickly opened his door and stepped out into the cold.

Arthur stared up at him.

"How's it feel to know two twenty-somethings have more to them than you? You cut a pathetic figure when you're on the back foot. Leave - now! If I ever see your face again, I'll bury you." Con took a solid step and Gray backed off. "Yeah, you _better_ run. Tiny coward. Leave us to clean up your mess."

Arthur Gray took off quickly across the parking lot, and made a beeline path to his vehicle without a backward look. Con's burning eyes tracked him all the way. Eventually Con turned to get into the car but found Joe loitering.

"How come you worked him out and Frank and I never did?"

"Life experience. Plain and simple. He got to you at an impressionable age and made the most of it. Those days are over."

-o0o-

Joe, largely uncommunicative on the way back, sat with his arms crossed tightly to his chest, thinking hard. Finally, he put words to his thoughts. "I feel really crappy about how The Gray Man made me feel about Frank. On some level, I've been angry with him about what happened."

Con's eyebrows dropped quizzically, " _'The Gray Man'?_ What'd you call him that for?"

"Didn't mean to - habit. It's the penname Arthur Gray loves everyone to use. Frank and I made an agreement long ago not to add to his notoriety and ego by using it."

Con snorted. "The man's ridiculous."

"I realise it now - it's obvious that not only did he manipulate Frank, he did it to me too, and for years! And Dad, and Nancy…and even you and James. Arthur's used all of us to do his dirty work for him."

Con laughed with an angry snort, "And look how it blew up in his face. He failed the first time with Pandora and he's failed now. I predict his tenure as the head of The Network will soon be at an end. The government isn't gonna stomach him for much longer."

"Do you think?"

"Yeah, I do," Con said with certainty. "He's lost perspective and control. He involved outsiders and it won't have gone down well. He made the same mistake twice in full view of his superiors. This could mean the end of The Network altogether. Ezra Collig will be shouting from the rafters. He doesn't take kindly to members of his team being run off the road and shot at. The Network's time as a secret organisation's at an end."

The turn the conversation took with Arthur Gray had been something neither of them could have predicted. Con didn't know what he'd expected he would hear, but he didn't think it would have been _that_. Being forced to reveal a conversation to the rest of the team, with no positive angle? A BIG problem!

They walked up the driveway to the hotel and saw Frank and Fenton's car parked in the lot. Vanessa and James' vehicle wasn't there and it bothered Con. He didn't like their two most inexperienced members of the team were partnered off, but appreciated why it had ended up that way. It also troubled him, because they were now his kids, and his responsibility. He felt what Fenton Hardy must have felt every day for the last twenty odd years.

They walked in and could hear Frank and Fenton in the living room. They hung their outer wear up on the hooks, and Con followed Joe through the doorway, where Joe faltered as Frank looked up from the chair.

Con instantly saw what had stopped Joe. Frank's eyes looked normal. He'd never been able to put his finger on what had been different about Frank, but Con now realized it had been his _eyes_. The hypnotism had relit the fire previously extinguished four months before when Nancy left. _Ah!_ It's the _'twinkle'_ \- the _'twinkle'_ Laura accused Con of having when he and Andrea tried to keep their burgeoning relationship under wraps.

It seemed Frank knew something wasn't right, because he simultaneously lurched to his feet to meet his brother half way. Once up and steady, Joe strode across the room and yanked Frank into a tight embrace. "What the…Joe?"

"Con?" Fenton asked.

Con moved his head in a series of tight shakes. "We had one hell of a conversation with Gray. I don't even know how I'm gonna explain it, other than to lay the facts on the table. We're in worse shape than we thought. It's damn lucky Frank put us in a position where he could pull us out when he did. I don't like Vanessa and James being out there."

"They're on their way back… _worse shape_? How can this be any _worse_?"

"Fen, you just wait and listen. We must find Drew and find her _now._ Frank, we need to throw all our resources at it. Did the kids make any headway with finding her?"

Joe let go of his brother, and Frank held him at arm's length, running appraising eyes over his brother. "You injured? Your clothes are a mess."

"I'm not injured. Arthur is, I'm not."

"Gray's injured? What happened? Did the Posse make another attack?"

"I punched and kicked him."

Fenton laughed. "Good boy."

Frank threw a withered look. "Seriously, Dad? Not smart. Joe could have ended up in the clink. I remember you wouldn't let me meet Arthur because you were worried I'd tear him apart. In fact—" Frank frowned at Con. " _Why_ isn't Joe in jail?"

"Trust me Frank, Grey deserved every one of those punches and kicks, and I think he knew it. He wasn't in the mood to lock anyone up and appreciates our situation. Not that he's gonna help, rich considering all roads lead to him." Con spoke to Fenton, "What about the kids…Nancy?"

"What exactly did Arthur say?" Frank asked.

Con raised his hands imploringly, maddened no one seemed to be hearing him. "What is it with you two? Would someone _please_ answer me!"

"Con, you're spinning." Fenton paced forward to take his partner by the shoulder, pat him on the back. He aimed Con into one of the winged chairs. "Sit down. I'll have Mrs Holliday make you a strong cup of coffee. The kids are fine, and we think Nancy's safe, for the time being."

"She isn't," Joe said.

"What do you—" Frank spun and started to pace. "No one's making sense. Take a deep breath, both of you." He angled his head to the door and shouted, "MRS HOLLIDAY?"

 _"_ _Yes, my Dear?"_

"Can you bring two coffees, please?"

 _"_ _Coming right up."_

"Thank you." Frank emulated his father and angled Joe down into the seat he'd exited. "Speak."

Fenton and Frank stayed upright and listened while Joe and Con reported all they learned from Arthur Gray, the whole ugly truth of it - about how he'd used Frank as a conduit in order to manipulate them all. How Arthur had clumsily attempted to protect Frank and Nancy, but had badly failed. How they were mistaken in their assumption the Pandora Posse were after them, but weren't because they were dead. They talked about the overwhelmingly stupid decision The Network made by downloading the game, and how they'd squirreled it away, providing a dangling, metaphorical carrot for a greedy agent to take a bite. Finally, Con and Joe told Frank and Fenton about the revenge ridden psychopath gunning for Frank. Last, they explained about the unnamed _'Authority',_ who would be putting a gun to Frank and Nancy's heads, once the young people knew the code again.

It didn't take Fenton and Frank long to appreciate why Con and Joe arrived with their heads spinning like tops and with an urgent need to find Vanessa, James, and, especially, Nancy.

"What have Van and James told you? Have they located Nancy?" Con asked.

"No they haven't," Fenton answered, his face now as grim as Con's. "They spoke to the auction house and they confirmed Nancy left to follow someone. They had a record of the man in question and they've supplied us with address details. He lives in Bayport."

"Bayport!" Joe exclaimed.

"James phoned Ezra and asked the police visit the man's address. There's a small possibility Nancy decided to investigate and she's there. Or perhaps Ezra's boys will find something to pin down this man to a place in NYC. I know this sounds perverse, but the preferred scenario is Nancy's a prisoner of this man. From what you've described, it would be better than being in the clutches of this psychopath."

"What about where Nancy's staying? Her base?"

"By elimination they tracked her to the Darcy Hotel, but she hasn't been seen for three days. James used his badge to get access to her room. In Vanessa's considered opinion as a woman, it didn't look like Nancy had been back for quite a while. She hadn't left messages or a forwarding address. The kids paid her bill, and put her belongings in the car. James left a message and his phone number with the hotel, asked Nancy to contact us if she returns. He left clear and strict instructions to give his number ONLY to Nancy."

"Huh," Con said. "They did a stand-up job."

Frank smiled. "Don't sound so surprised. As far as it goes with James, the apple hasn't fallen far, and Vanessa's picked up a trick or two over the years." He continued, "The auction house told us something else. They had a visit after Nancy had left from two police officers. Only they weren't cops. They showed the receptionist an ID badge, but a fake one. From what she described, they were the woman and the psychopath …an _obvious_ psychopath. He barely said two words and she locked herself into an office, scared witless. She used the word 'malignant'. From the physical description, he wasn't one of the gang who took me to the school to get The Key, but it doesn't mean Nancy didn't know him. If Nan saw him, and recognized him, then she will have run."

Joe smiled at him.

"What?"

"You called her 'Nan'."

A slow grin spread over Frank's face. "I did, didn't I?" Then the smile dropped, replaced by worry lines. "We need to find my girl. Con's right, time's running out."


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi all. You may have noticed that something hocky is going on with my reviews. Some are not appearing in my feed, although they are being emailed to me. I've reported this, so hopefully this issue will be resolved too. PLEASE don't stop reviewing. I can always add them in myself later on, they won't be wasted and I love to hear what you think. Thank you.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 18**

"What does the psychopath look like?" Joe asked his brother.

"Tall, red-hair, athletic, empty dead eyes," Frank answered, his face still lined with worry for the safety of his ex-girlfriend. A girl he loved, and hoped would one day love him back again.

"I remember him. One of the group of men who took me to the clearing and used the cattle prods on me. He stood silent the whole time, watching. Seemed to enjoy it - fascinated even."

"Who's this _Authority_ Gray told you about?" Fenton asked.

"He didn't seem to know," Con answered. "And I'm not convinced by that part of the story. The rest sounded plausible and he gave a fully rounded account, but that aspect…vague…like…he made it up on the spot as an excuse for breaking up Frank's relationship with Drew."

Frank started to pace. "When Vanessa gets back, I'll have her do some research. If she digs deep, and if they exist, she should be able to uncover something." He tapped his forehead. "Something else occurred to me from what you just told us. The woman who took the Pandora game from The Network…Arthur told you she went out of her way to find out about us, and the Pandora case?"

Con nodded. "Correct."

"That'll be why they've included James on the death list. She must know he had a hand in helping you destroy Pandora at Andrea's house. She thinks he played a bigger role."

"Of course! I couldn't figure out why my son's status had been upped—" Con paused, and his eyes travelled to the red phone on the table in front of him as it began to vibrate loudly. He felt the color drain from his face as he assumed the worst case scenario.

With a grimace, Frank stepped forward to lift the cell to look at the screen. He sighed with relief as he flashed Con an _'it's okay'_ grin. He hit the answer button. "Hi Chief…yes he is, hang on." Frank offered the phone to his brother. "Ezra wants to talk to you."

"Me?" Joe accepted the phone, "Sir?" He listened for a few seconds, then sat up straighter and reached to nudge Frank's leg. "I'm putting you on speakerphone, Chief." He pressed the screen and put the phone down onto the table. "Ezra, repeat what you said so the others can hear it."

 _"_ _Hi boys and Vanessa."_

"Vanessa and James aren't here, but carry on," Con said.

 _"_ _One of my officers passed the store room where we put your phones and heard Joe's cell ringing. He answered and spoke to Nancy Drew's father. Carson is it?"_

"What did he say?" Frank asked.

 _"_ _A neighbor brought a Special Delivery letter around to him which had been incorrectly addressed, from Frank's lass, Nancy Drew. She's hiding out in a hotel in New York. Said she will hang on for Fenton to collect her, and it's an emergency."_

Frank circled his fist in the air. "That's my girl. Which hotel, Ezra?"

 _"_ _The Beaumont, Room 202."_

"Thanks Chief, we're on our way. Thank God!" Frank cut the call off, headed for the hallway and came face-to-face with Mrs Holliday, and a tray of coffees.

"These can wait, young Frank. Go and get Nancy. Glad to see you've come to your senses."

-o0o-

Vanessa and James were delayed in their return journey by Vanessa's insistence they purchase a portable heater for the car. Then after, they became clogged in the rush-hour traffic of other commuters to get out of the city and home.

"I'm still trying to get my head around the fact Frank and Nancy were made to split up," Vanessa said. "Hasn't Arthur Gray got a heart?"

"He's an 'all business' guy by the sounds of it," James muttered. "I doubt he even thought of it that way."

They were twenty minutes shy of the _Oaklands,_ the promise of hot drinks in their heads, possibly one of Mrs Holliday's delicious hot chocolates. Earlier, Vanessa propped her cell phone up in the cup holder of the car to charge it with the portable battery pack. When it rang, she reached to put it on loud speaker. "Hi Frank."

 _"_ _Turn around. We know where Nan is. We're on our way, but you're closer."_

Vanessa and James stared wide-eyed at each other. "Seriously?" Vanessa asked.

 _"_ _She's in room 202 at the Beaumont Hotel. Do you know it?"_

"I can GPS it." She pursed her lips, "I'm so miffed! We've trudged all over the city trying to find her. How did you find her in an hour from your comfy chair at the hotel? I'm starting to think there's something, erm—" she waggled her fingers "Something… _otherworldly_ about you, Frank Hardy."

James laughed.

 _"_ _I didn't find her, she found herself. Sent a Special Delivery letter to one of Carson's neighbors, asking Dad to pick her up. Carson phoned Joe's phone and one of Con's boys answered."_

"Brilliant!" James said and prepared to turn the car around.

"No it isn't."

James did a double take. "Van?"

Frank said slowly, after a statically charged pause, _"What did you say? I didn't quite catch that."_

Vanessa raised her voice. "I said it isn't good! You said so yourself, Frank, the Posse are monitoring our phones, who's to say they weren't listening in on Mr Drew's conversation? _"_

Con's voice boomed over the line. _"We're coming, but don't wait. Get to her_ _now_ _!"_

"I wasn't planning on dawdling!" James said. "Hold tight, Van." He glanced in his mirrors, over his shoulder, and yanked on the parking brake. He took Mrs Holliday's car into a 180 degree spin and battled to straighten it up in the wet and cold conditions as they slewed sideways.

Vanessa gasped, snatched the strap above her head and braced her feet.

"Sorry Van," James muttered and mounted the central verge to use it as a short cut onto the return lane and rejoin the New York bound traffic. They got beeped by a couple of other cars, but James paid them no heed in his speed and urgency.

-o0o-

Nancy lay on top her bed at the Beaumont Hotel. The end credits of a movie she finished watching rolled by on the screen. She aimed the remote at the TV, turned it off, and let the control drop from her fingers so it bounced onto the mattress. She sighed, picked up the much thumbed book she borrowed from reception and started to read.

Three days passed as she waited for Fenton to collect her but saw no sign of him or the others so far. On top of the boredom, her finances were desperately low. If something didn't happen soon, she would have to bite the bullet and send Frank Hardy an email. Not that she wanted to, she didn't want to become directly embroiled in Frank Hardy's life.

She began to formulate a basic plan in her mind, while a fingernail tapped on her front teeth. _"I'll email Frank Hardy and ask him to meet me somewhere. I'll hide and when I see him I'll go meet him."_

It felt like her and Frank Hardy's roles were reversed from when he'd asked for her help with the original Pandora investigation. Back then, they similarly arranged to rendezvous outside of an office block at the rear of a jewellery store. When she'd got there, he'd peeled from the shadows, walked out into the snow, and into her arms. The _'walking-into-each-other's-arms'_ days were long gone. Goodness knows why they decided to start a romance in the first place - a logistical nightmare of missed dates, conflicted schedules and wasted opportunities.

 _'_ _What's his email address?'_ She suddenly thought. _'Where's the information gone?'_ ' _Come on eidetic memory, where are you? Don't fail me now! Huh, maybe I should email Joe instead, in fact, it makes more sense, and I can avoid bothering Frank Hardy that way.'_

A quiet tap stole her attention. So quiet a knock she wasn't sure she heard it at all, but her head came up anyway. Her eyes scanned to the floor and she saw, under the door, a shadow of a pair of feet. Two more shadows joined the first two, and the knock resumed with more rigor.

 _"_ _Mandy?"_ a voice called out.

Nancy had registered herself under the assumed name of 'Mandy' at the hotel. The beckoned voice belonged to Gemma from housekeeping. For once, Gemma hadn't simply walked in on her. Not that Nancy minded their customary chats, but on this occasion Gemma's failure to satisfy the usual habit made Nancy suspicious. Why wasn't she coming in? Then she felt a jolt of elation instead - were the second set of feet Fenton's?

Nancy sat up further and heard a man's voice say. _"It's fine, open the door."_ It wasn't Fenton's voice! She knew the voice, but it wasn't Mr H's deep, smooth baritone. It wasn't _anyone_ connected directly with Hardy, Riley and Son's Detective Agency. Nancy shot up off the bed and went for the window.

The key turned in the lock even as she struggled to pry the window open. She forced one latch to release, but couldn't budge the other. It had been over-painted so many times as to make it super-glued in place. In fact, she realised the entire window had been painted into the wood surround. Even if she _had_ heaved it open to get out, she would have had to jump two stories to the concrete courtyard. It would still have been preferable to who stood beyond the door, who she would soon have to face.

She turned and took a couple of quick steps around the bed toward the small bathroom to barricade herself in, but before she could get even half way the door opened. With a feeling of dark dread, she found herself faced across the bed by the Red-Headed Man she'd run from earlier.

His position meant he now as good as barred Nancy's way to the bathroom.

Gemma stood next to him with a strange mixture of sympathy and regret on her face. "I'm sorry Mandy."

Nancy looked from her to the man, and appreciated why Gemma had cooperated so readily - he'd disguised himself as an EMT and held in his hand a large, red, medical bag. He attempted a friendly smile presumably for the benefit of the deception. Nancy glanced around the room for another _out,_ but there wasn't anything, so instead she reached to grab the nearest thing to her - a ceramic lamp from the bedside table. With a yank, she had the power cable out of the socket, and wielded it for protection.

The Red-Headed Man took a step into the room and looked over his shoulder as a clatter filled their ears. Two men appeared with a medical gurney.

Nancy looked out of the window at the scruffy courtyard. She realised while she'd tried to get the window up, she'd subconsciously seen an ambulance down there. Its doors were wide open. Outside of it stood the woman she'd seen at the auction house. Nancy now knew their intentions towards her. She returned her gaze to witness the man smile insidiously at Gemma.

His fake friendliness didn't work as he looked like a wolf staring at a potential meal. "You can go, thank you for your cooperation, we can take it from here. Best to give her some privacy, and dignity." He put the bag down on the bed and opened the flap.

"No, NO!" Nancy shouted as Gemma backed out to let the gurney in. "Gemma, I'm not Mandy. My real name's Nancy Drew, I'm a private detective. I've been on the run from this man. He wishes to do me harm, he's not a paramedic. Please Gemma, phone the police. You know me, you've spent time with me, you know I'm not—"

"Disturbed?" the Red-Headed Man finished for her. He dropped the flap of the bag open onto the bed, turned to Gemma and softly laughed. "Private Detective? That's a new one. Last time—" He laughed a little too hard. "A spy, working undercover!"

"Please Gemma."

Gemma paused for a couple of seconds but dropped her gaze, turned, and walked out of the room, leaving Nancy on her own.

One of the two men went outside to watch Gemma go, and the other entered, removing any possibility of an escape route.

The Red-Headed Man picked up the medical bag, hefted it at his friend, who caught it, and put it down on the gurney. "Get ready." The third man reappeared in the doorway and headed into the room.

"Don't do what he's telling you to do," Nancy said. "He's going to kill me. You'll be an accessory to murder. They'll put you away for life!" One of the men glanced her way. "Think about it!"

"Don't talk to her," snapped the man. "Just do your job." He turned his eyes on Nancy, regarding her thoughtfully through those eyes which lacked human compassion. "Put the lamp down. You're won't do much good with it."

Nancy thought she'd test the theory and heaved it. As it left her hand she realized she'd thrown in haste. To launch it through the window to attract attention would have been better…too late now as the lamp hit his forearm and exploded. The Red-Headed Man proved the lamp wasn't going to do much good by running straight for her with the growl of a wild animal.

Nancy made a grab for the chair, but his hands were on her before she had more than a light hold on it. An arm slid around her middle, a hand enveloped her neck and her feet left the ground. He pulled her back and took the chair along with them. It butted up against the bed, tipped over, and her fingers were ripped clear. The room swirled and she found she'd come down onto the bed, on her back, pinned by the throat. He climbed astride her, and leered down so she slapped him. He punched back. The hit came in so hideously hard she didn't even yell out for the shock of it. The side of her face switched from a searing burn to numbness in a matter of seconds...mentally paralysed and utterly terrorized.

His hand shifted from her throat to her chin, gripped and pulled her face around to make her look at him. "Been a long time since anyone fought me. I like it."

She sensed the other two men move toward her, followed by a blindingly strong burst of light from a camera flash. Someone seized her left wrist to straighten her arm taut, and a cold swab rubbed on her inner elbow. She experienced a sting as they used a syringe to pump cold liquid into a vein, which swirled quickly up her arm and into her blood stream.

Nancy welcomed the feel of impending unconsciousness because at least she wouldn't see those eyes anymore. And she wouldn't feel so helpless, frightened, abandoned, and without hope.

-o0o-

James and Vanessa sprinted toward the hotel, but Vanessa struggled to keep pace with her fitter and faster brother. It proved impossible to get anywhere close to the hotel in their car - the rush-hour traffic so bad they'd been forced to abandon the vehicle in a side road, and finish their journey on foot.

Vanessa had wondered what her limitations would be once out in the field, and now she knew - her level of fitness, or lack thereof! Exhausted, she pulled up short. James stopped with her and turned confused. "Don't…hold back…Jimmy…go...I'll catch up," she said through labored breaths.

"You sure?"

"Yeah…can't keep up…get to…Nancy." She waved him off.

"Okay." With one last backward glance, he put on a burst of speed and dashed off.

In a series of short bursts, Vanessa eventually had the hotel in sight, but she couldn't see James anymore. She slowed, and took her gloves off to stuff them into her pocket - her exertions had overheated her. Her chest felt fit to explode so she leaned forward with her hands on her knees and took great gulps of air until her breaths regulated. _'Wow, how unfit am I?'_ She stood upright, readjusted her scarf and resumed her journey.

Once reached, she found the Beaumont to be a boxy shaped building, well past its prime, and in desperate need of refurbishment. In fact, the hotel screamed of somewhere fast going out of business. Non-existent signage meant she could not fathom the location of the hotel entrance. She walked to the right, and found herself to the rear in some sort of concreted off area - an area which at one time offered the luxury of an attractive courtyard. Now, the only opulence on offer were broken benches positioned around a conked out fountain.

Then Vanessa saw it and froze in her tracks – an ambulance… _that_ ambulance. She didn't know how she knew, call it instinct if you like, but it wasn't any old ambulance. The back doors were open with a gurney aboard, a patient stretched out on it. A woman leaned over the patient as two men climbed into the front seats. Vanessa narrowed her eyes and identified the woman as the same female responsible for Frank's spiked drink. Vanessa surmised that as she recognised her as _that_ woman, then _that_ patient could only be her friend, Nancy Drew.

 _'_ _James hasn't been quick enough. Where is he?'_

Vanessa put aside her initial concern for James and weighed her chances of pulling Nancy from the back of the ambulance. She figured if she acted quickly, and took the woman by surprise, she could overpower her, and pull Nancy away. As Vanessa had a height and weight advantage, she felt confident she could overpower the woman - it's one thing to drug someone in order to make them easy to move, quite another to face someone physically able to defend themselves or even attack!

 _"_ _Vanessa Bender,"_ hissed a whispered voice right into her ear.

Vanessa shuddered at the sudden murmur, and the warm, breathy intrusion in her ear and swung around. She found herself face-to-face with a walking nightmare of a man who immediately bore down on her. He had the most horrible, dead eyes she'd ever seen. She'd experienced Frank's version of this, his protective mask born from his mental scars, but this man's eyes were pure evil and empty of human empathy or common kindness. Vanessa tripped backward away from him, but the Red-Headed Man kept easy pace with her.

His hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat. "I knew Nancy Drew must have had help," he said and began to push Vanessa toward the ambulance.

Vanessa knew her skin would bruise from the tight pressure of his fingers, and desperately tried to dislodge his hand. She tried to wedge her finger nails underneath to pry him loose, but his strength made dislodging his hold impossible. With no other choice but to comply, she tried to shout for help instead, but the position and pressure of his fingers gagged her, and his grip prevented her from even breathing properly. Presently, she felt her legs up against the steps of the vehicle, and the Red-Headed Man made an easy job of levering her up the steps and on board. Once there, he reached out with his free hand, and pulled the doors shut.

In the back, Vanessa tripped and had to take a big step back. Her legs were now jammed up on the woman in her way. "Give me some room," the woman snapped and gave Vanessa a shove. The medical bag dropped down next to Vanessa's legs. The woman kicked it and it slid toward the back doors.

The man wrapped his free arm around Vanessa's waist, pulled her close, and turned them until her back pressed against the doors. Vanessa saw Nancy's unconscious body for a split second before the man's head moved in the way, and blocked her view.

"What are you doing?" asked the woman. "Why have you brought her on board? We don't need her; we've got what we want. _And what's this_?"

From the tone of the woman's voice alone, Vanessa's wondered if the Red-Headed man had done something nasty to Nancy.

"She hit me."

Yes, something nasty had been done.

The woman continued, "We agreed she's _mine_. We agreed I could have a couple of days grace to get the code out of her, and only then could you have your fun. Beating the code out of her won't work and you know it. You get Frank Hardy now I've got Nancy Drew, that's the deal! Miss Drew's got the photographic memory so she's valuable. Have your fun with Miss Bender, but NOT Miss Drew!"

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"Finish Miss Bender and we'll go. It'll send Hardy a clear message, might make him comply with our demands."

 _'_ _Finish? Finish What?'_

The man's head turned to Vanessa and he pressed himself close, so close she could feel the heat of his powerful body and smell his musk - it made her feel sick. She braced her palms against his chest and attempted to push him off, but she faced an immovable obstacle.

He positioned his face so they were eye-to-eye, with their noses almost touching. He slowly slid his free hand to grip her silky scarf, and then moved his other hand to grasp the opposite side. He began to pull and tighten the cloth about her neck…slowly, so slowly. "Most don't fight, Vanessa Bender, will you fight me? Nancy did, will you?" He tipped his head and watched, fascinated, enjoying the horror Vanessa expressed in her gray/blue eyes.

How do you fight someone so powerful? How can you beat someone so big when all you are is a girl? Vanessa did fight him, but winning wasn't an option, not against an opponent so totally overpowering and terrifying and in control. She simply couldn't fight hard enough.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

Against James' better judgement, he ran on ahead of his new sister. Vanessa had insisted, and he appreciated they no longer had the luxury of time, the situation red-hot urgent for Nancy.

Unfortunately, he became confused at the location of the _Beaumont_ , and got himself turned around for a few minutes - zero signage hadn't helped. He stopped a passerby who pointed the building out, so ugly James had discounted it as an office block.

He ran to the left and followed the outer wall, until he stumbled upon the front door. He entered quickly through the double doors, and found himself in a scruffy foyer area. A wooden reception desk faced him. On top sat an old style press button phone and an antiquated, leather bound register. No computer, no TV, not even a radio. Two women sat on a threadbare sofa in the back room who hadn't noticed him enter, one giving comfort to the other.

James banged on the desk and shouted, "HELLO!" The two women looked up. He waved his badge at them, but they showed no interest in coming out of the room. He didn't wait and strode through to a passageway, headed to the stairwell. He decided it would be quicker to run up to the second floor than to take the elevator which looked as questionable as the rest of the place.

He climbed the stairs to the next floor and saw room 201. Then he passed through an illegally propped open fire door to find room 202, just to the side with its door wide open. One look and he knew a struggle had taken place - pieces of broken ceramics strewn all over the room, bedclothes half on the floor, and a chair overturned. "When are we gonna catch a BREAK?" He ran around the bed to the window and looked out.

Down below, an ambulance idled with its doors open, and a tall, Red-Headed Man strode toward the back of it, his arm outstretched. James' gaze switched, and he saw feet under the vehicle's door trip awkwardly up the steps, encouraged by both the man's arm and forward motion. James felt confident from the description given previously, he'd found the psychopath. "HEY YOU!" James bellowed through the glass, and banged with his fist. The man didn't look up, apparently didn't hear him.

 _'_ _Nancy…I'm coming…hang on in there, Drew!'_

With a grunt, James turned, hurtled over the chair and sprinted from the room. He passed the fire door, charged the staircase and leapt down them in about three bounds. He turned and dashed through to the reception desk. "HEY!"

The younger women still sat in the back room, but the elder now stood. She looked at James, and meandered into the doorway. "Do you mind not being rude? We've had our fill of rude people today." She crossed her arms obstinately.

"What's the quickest way out the back, to the ambulance?"

The woman glanced at the other woman who started to cry.

James banged his hand down onto the desk to pull her attention back. "TELL ME!"

The woman looked obstinately at him. _"Please."_

"IDIOT! Tell me NOW or I'll arrest you for obstruction. If Nancy Drew comes to harm on the back of that ambulance, I will hold you both _personally_ responsible. HOW DO I GET OUT THERE?"

At the mention of Nancy's name, the younger woman leapt to her feet. She ran to the door, and pointed urgently to another corridor.

James took off down it and found himself confronted by another door at the end, an emergency exit. Through the dirty window at the top, he saw the side view of the ambulance with its red light flashing. He got to the exit in seconds, crashed through, and out into the cool air.

The vehicle began to edge forward to leave. James launched himself, got a hand on the door handle and yanked. It released too quickly, shoved him backward, and nearly broke his fingers. Something leaning from the other side flew past James as he opened the door. It fell past him to hit the ground with a nauseating thud. James gripped his pained hand, and saw Vanessa lying there, but his attention jerked back as he sensed impending danger. A foot shot out and booted him squarely in the middle of the chest. He stumbled, tripped over Vanessa and fell, but not before he saw Nancy strapped by the wrists to a gurney, and the woman with her.

James gritted his teeth, and looked up to see the Red-Headed Man's expressionless eyes on him. Then the eyes moved unblinking to look at something behind and he lifted a hand to make a gun gesture.

Angry now at being dealt with so easily, James got up and went for the Red-Headed Man again in a last ditch attempt to help Nancy. He ran the few steps to the back of the ambulance and leapt for it, but the psychopath swung his leg and booted him in the shoulder. James went down again.

With a rapacious and ugly grin, the Red-Headed Man pulled the door shut with a slam, and the ambulance rolled off fast, siren blasting and red lights flashing.

 _"_ _JAMES, STAY DOWN!"_ someone shouted, it sounded like Mr H.

 _'_ _Not gonna to be a problem.'_ James clutched his burning shoulder, and rolled onto his side to catch his breath.

Footsteps thundered by him - his father's legs and those of the three Hardy men trying to catch up to the ambulance. Frank howled, picked up a brick and hurled it, sending it flying. His sure throwing arm flung it with a crash into the window of the ambulance, but the vehicle didn't slow down, didn't veer off course, just sped up. Frank dropped into a crouch and roared. James now knew who the mocking gun gesture had been aimed at…Frank.

The person who James thought had been forced onto the vehicle hadn't been Nancy, but Vanessa. Vanessa must have interrupted them, tried to intervene. "Van?" James said, finally able to move again. He crawled to her. She wasn't breathing right, her skin a strange color. He went straight for her coat to loosen her top button, "Van, breath!"

Imploringly, she weakly reached for his hands and redirected them to her throat and scarf, then fell away and she didn't move any more, her eyes shut.

Her breaths were gasping, labored and erratic...and she'd turned an even unhealthier color. "VAN?" He tried to move her scarf, but found he couldn't budge it. He ran his fingers around the material to find it tightly knotted in place, cutting into her throat, slowly asphyxiating her. He went for the knot, but couldn't get his fingers into the loops. Her lips were blue as she wheezed - horrifyingly he wasn't making progress with opening up her airway. He gripped her hands and yelled, "I NEED HELP HERE!"

Con dropped down next to him followed by Joe. "What's happening? What's wrong with her?"

"The scarf, he's tied it around her throat. I need a blade, can't get it off. QUICK! GO NOW!"

Joe sped away.

Con's hand came in to try and loosen the scarf, but his big hands were hopeless with such a tight knot, his strength didn't help this time. "Van, hold on. Help's coming, Joe's coming." He sought out his pocket, retracted a key and attempted to use the serrated edge to cut through the fabric. "I can't do it!" The silk proved too strong and slippery, Con's cutting action wasn't even fraying it, Vanessa coming to more harm than the fabric. "It's not working…DAMMIT...JOE!"

James watched Joe run to Frank and Fenton. "Knife!" Joe blurted, and thrust his hand into his brother's pocket. He ran back, and James saw he had a Swiss army tool from which Joe pulled a blade. He crouched next to Vanessa, went for the scarf and hacked away until the strands parted, and were clear of her throat. He cut her neck in the process - blood welled up, but Vanessa didn't respond to the pain of the knife slash.

"DAD!" Joe yelled desperately, and tipped her head back to aid her breathing. "For God's sake, DAD! C'mon Babes."

Fenton dropped to place his cheek against Vanessa's mouth, feeling for signs of life, fingers on her neck. They crouched there in silence to give him time until he sat back and sighed. "She's alive, she's breathing. Her color's coming back." He looked at his fingers, at the blood he'd gotten on himself. He cringed, rubbed it off on his jeans and inspected the shallow cut.

"I never should have left her," James said.

They heard Frank's phone ring and turned to see him access the screen. From his reaction, it wasn't good news. He didn't throw the phone but he had plenty to say which wasn't anything his mother would wish to hear.

"We can't stay here," Con said. "We're easy prey."

Joe began to argue. "She needs to go to a hosp—"

"You _know_ we can't!" Fenton interrupted. "We need to get off the streets; Con's right we'll be picked off it's too dangerous. I'm sorry, Joe." He stood and looked at his partner. "Let's get out of here."

Frank joined them. He looked as pale and haunted as Vanessa. He knelt down and touched her face gently. "Joe, Mrs Holliday used to be a nurse, she'll know what to do."

"Is here anything you _haven't_ thought of, Bro?" Joe snapped bitterly.

Frank stood quickly. "Yeah. How to get Nan away from a psychopath. How to stop you getting killed. How to stop _this_!" Frank turned away. "I'm sorry Joe; I promised I'd keep Vanessa safe, I'm really sorry." He raked through his hair, screamed and staggered away.

Joe grimaced. His hand reached out to Frank, but didn't quite touch before his fingers retracted.

"Help me get Van up." Con said to Fenton. "We need to move."

They lifted Vanessa between them and settled her into Con's sure arms. Fenton moved to grab Frank's arm to guide him, and turned and headed swiftly for the cars, certain Joe would follow.

-o0o-

Fenton phoned ahead to warn Mrs Holliday they were on their way with a casualty, so as soon as they pulled up, she ushered them inside the house. She hurried Con through to the dining room, where the table had been cleared. She'd also put a blanket down, and a folded sheet onto one of the chairs. On the side, she'd placed various first aid meds and bandages.

Con gently laid Vanessa down on the blanket, and stood away to let Mrs Holliday look at her as the others crowded around the table.

Mrs Holliday looked at Vanessa's raw neck. "Poor baby. He even left finger marks!" She began to pull open Vanessa's coat but paused and looked at them gawping. "Everyone out!" she ordered. Her hands flapped as she chased them away, but grabbed Joe's arm. "Not you, Joseph, I need your assistance." She pushed James out the room as the last man standing. "Your sister needs her privacy," Mrs Holliday insisted firmly. "Help me get her coat and top off, Joseph." The door shut.

The remaining men turned away from the barred door, and moved slowly to the living room.

Frank went and sat down in his usual winged armchair. He stared at the flames, thinking hard, his elbows on his knees and his fingers over his mouth.

Con gazed thoughtfully at Frank for a few seconds, then started to talk. "The Red-Headed Man hates you Frank. In fact, it's gone beyond hatred and slipped into the territory of fixation. To strangle someone like that, it's a personal and egotistical way of going about killing - face-to-face and hands on. He's letting you know - showing you - what he's capable of, what he's prepared to do to us, to get at you. It's not like shooting someone - detached and focussed, getting a job done. The gunman who came after Fen and me, and probably tried to kill James and Joe? It's not the same perpetrator."

Frank's eyes swivelled to Con.

"I doubt this is so much about Pandora for him now, but more about revenge. You humiliated the original Posse and they're dead, killed in the prison where you put them—"

"What are you talking about?" James interrupted from the doorway with Fenton. "What do you mean they're dead?"

Con half turned. "I'll fill you in later, James" He returned to Frank, "Where Nancy's concerned she…what I mean to say, Junior, is…erm, if the Red-Headed Man's prepared to—" Con glanced helplessly back at Fenton.

Fenton took Con's uncomfortable delivery as his cue and stepped further into the room, "What Con's _trying_ to say, but is finding difficult, is if this man believes you have a strong emotional connection to Nancy, he'll do worse to her than Vanessa. I suspect he'll send photographs or video footage. I don't want to be cruel, Son, but that's the crux of it and you need to prepare yourself. He's a psychopath, a sadist, and this is a game for him. He's enjoying tormenting and making you squirm and he won't stop. He won't kill Nancy quickly either, he'll use her like a toy."

Frank's expressionless response proved impossible to read, especially as his fingers hid half his face.

"Arthur Gray's right, we need to destroy Pandora, but we need to prioritize getting Nancy out. Usually, I'd advise involving Ezra and his squad, but we'd end up in a **bureaucratic quagmire. They'd say** we're too personally involved, and pull us out…definitely slow us down."

Frank finally pulled his fingers back to reveal his face and broke his silence, "The problem is we don't know where they've taken Nan. He could be doing anything to her right now."

Fenton nodded grimly.

"And I stupidly reacted so strongly to her being taken the Red-Headed Man's under no illusion Nan means a lot to me."

"A human reaction, Son, and why you're not a psychopath." Fenton held his palm out. "Do you want me to take your cell so you don't have to see what might be sent to you?"

Frank pulled the phone out of his pocket, and balanced it in his hand. "It's too late, they already sent me pictures."

"What? But you didn't say—"

"Outside the Beaumont while you were busy with Vanessa, they sent two pictures - one of Nancy, and one of Vanessa." He let the explanation hang in the air, keyed in his password, and offered the cell to his dad. "Don't show them to Joe."

James' weight shifted.

"Don't look, James." Frank said firmly, and sat upright to lean back. "I need to think." His head disappeared into the confines of the chair, and he returned his gaze to the fire with his hand pressed to the side of his face.

Fenton flicked between the two images, his face growing redder and redder. He weaved away and staggered to and fro before slumping onto the sofa by the window.

"Fen?" Con asked, and waited while Fenton worked his tongue around his mouth.

He gave up trying to find his voice, and simply offered the phone to Con to see for himself.

Con accepted it, stared at the ceiling, took a deep breath and looked. His pupils expanded. "Son of a…BITCH!" he spat ferociously. He switched to the next picture and reacted just as hard.

"Dad?" James asked.

He turned angry eyes on his son. "You're not seeing them, don't even ask...GODDAMN HIM!" Con turned to Fenton ferociously. "I'm keeping this phone. You're not seeing any more pictures."

"Why?"

"Because you're Carson's friend and Frank's father. If anyone's gonna see photos or videos of Nancy it'll be me. They'll be no more photos of Van, she's not leaving this house, no matter what anyone thinks about us _playing to our strengths_. I've seen a lot of things in my time as a cop. I can detach myself mentally from it. At least better than you'll be able to."

"Are you forgetting I used to be a cop too?" Fenton reminded him.

"Not like me, so I keep the phone. It's where _my_ strength lies."

Fenton conceded with a nod. "We shouldn't even be having this conversation," he muttered. "This is beyond anything I've ever faced."

"Not for me," Con said. "We need to capture or kill this man because he won't stop. Preferably, he needs to be put down." He gave the photo one last fume-filled look, made what could only be described as a snarl, and shoved the phone into his top pocket. "I dunno how you're tolerating this, Frank."

James responded to his father's anger. "I never should have left Van, I should have been quicker," he said for about the umpteenth time since he'd discovered Vanessa in her distressed state. "I got lost, got confused. I couldn't find the place. I got delayed. I failed her _and_ Nancy."

"Stop blaming yourself," Con said. "None of us were gonna get there in time. Vanessa delayed their departure but not for long enough. Out of all of us, you had the best shot at reaching Drew and you nearly did."

Fenton nodded and plucked at his eyebrow. "You didn't know Vanessa would come across the ambulance and that madman. None of us could plan for such a risk. And if you _had_ got there, there were at least two men who took her, and one of those is a psychopathic murderer. You couldn't have fought them off."

"I could have tried."

"You did! But if you'd got their earlier, we'd have found you and Vanessa both dead. You were lucky you pulled on the door. You saved Vanessa's life by a quirk of fate. Trust me, I've seen the photo, the psychopath had no intention of letting her live. If you had got in his way, he wouldn't have let you live either."

"I shouldn't have left her." James repeated and moved into the chair opposite Frank. Obviously, he didn't appreciate what they'd said to him, the blame still flamed hotter in his belly than the fire now warming his legs. He went to speak to Frank but caught himself.

Fenton rose from the couch at the same time to go to his son, having seen the same thing as James, however, he stalled his approach when he saw James reach and put his hand on Frank's leg.

"Hey buddy," James said gently. They hadn't noticed how upset Frank had become, or rather, he hadn't let them see by burying himself into the backrest of the chair. Frank shook his head quickly although he didn't reject James' physical contact.

Proud of his son, Con envied how naturally James used tactile and empathic compassion he himself struggled with.

Fenton went back to the sofa, apparently happy to let James deal with it.

"Can I do anything?" James asked, but Frank remained silent. So instead James didn't speak for a while, and waited for Frank to compose himself. "C'mon Frank, what are you thinking?" he finally said. "You've got your plan face on."

"Ah, well there's the rub, James, the only way I can think to salvage anything from this is to turn myself over to them in exchange for Nancy. It worked before; I can make it work again."

Fenton gritted his teeth and rose up off the sofa to take the few steps between him and his son. He pulled Frank forcibly up onto his feet by the elbow, and pointed into his face. "NO! NOT an option. You're not sacrificing yourself this time."

Frank pulled his arm free. "Dad, I'm out of alternatives! This thing, this _whole_ situation's because of me. If anyone dies, it'll be me, not an innocent girl—" he pulled his palms to his heart, "Not MY innocent girl!"

Fenton took his son by the shoulders. "The guilt for this lies at Arthur Gray's feet and the damn Network, not you and not James! If it hadn't been for that damn man swimming about in your heads, Nancy would have run to us _days_ ago."

"Dad, we're dealing with the reality of what's happening right now. I'm stronger than Nancy. Physically stronger. If I exchange myself I would have a greater chance of fighting my way free. Nancy doesn't stand a chance! I'm tough, trained for situations like this. I can offer myself as bait with you guys as back up."

Fenton's voice rose, "I know the culpability's burning you up but it doesn't mean you're _expendable_!" On word _'expendable'_ he delivered an audible crack to Frank's left shoulder with the back of his fist. Fenton's exasperation at trying to make Frank appreciate, rather than understand, his point of view - mixed with seeing those pictures - had tipped him over the edge.

The hit wasn't violent, but it had been solid enough to make Frank look slowly down at the hand, and just as slowly back up into his Dad's face.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**

Fenton had just made the unwise decision to smack Frank on the shoulder with the back of his balled-up hand, borne out of what Con assumed to be frustration and fear. It didn't mean Frank saw it the same way, and Con considered it _way_ too late for Fenton to start using corporal punishment on his son. Badly timed. Fenton should have taken into account Frank's freaked out state of mind, as well his own.

Con moved quickly to get between them. He put a restraining hand on Fenton's elbow, another hand to his collarbone.

James stood to stand behind Frank, waiting silently.

Things had grown to a level where it looked to Con both Hardy men might lose their heads. Con didn't want to watch a Hardy slug fest. "Guys, I can see where you're both coming from but—"

Frank's brow dropped. He took Fenton's wrist and moved his arm safely out to the side. He hadn't done it violently. An assertive move, more of a _'Hey Dad - careful! What's up with you?'_ motion. He kept hold of it.

Con had been wrong about Frank; the anger exuded from Fenton alone. Frank had been serious about using himself as bait. He'd thought it through, wanted to debate and explore the idea. He hadn't been cruising for a fight.

Fenton, unable to relax his fist, continue to glare, unable to back down or recognise what he his actions were causing.

"Dad, what am I supposed to do, huh? Sit here and hope something advantageous will happen? You put me in charge of this; you shouldn't have if you can't respect or handle my decisions! What's happening with—"

James placed a hand on Frank's shoulder.

Frank silenced and looked first at Con and then back at James, just as confused as them.

Fenton quivered under Con's palm as Frank's gaze returned to him. "You're my son first, colleague second. There's no way on this EARTH I'll allow you to throw yourself into the flames. I'll be damned if I'm scraping you up off a roof again. There MUST be something else we—"

Mrs Holliday appeared in the doorway, made a loud _harrumph_ noise and pulled their attentions around. "Stop fighting! What happened today to Vanessa's terrible, awful, but it should be pulling you together not driving you apart. Use your anger and channel it into bringing down these people. Put a stop to that devil man doing anything like that to another person. Nancy's still with him, so imagine how she'd feel if she knew you were squabbling like this. Pull together or I'll start banging heads!"

Fenton and Frank glanced at each other. Frank let go of his Dad's forearm and they backed off. "Sorry," they said at the same time. Both sets of hands came up in supplication. They looked so alike, like bookends propping up periodicals.

"Sorry," Frank muttered again and moved another couple of steps away. "I'll talk to you all about it again later." He darted a glance about the room as though seeking a hiding place, but opted instead to leave entirely.

Con stepped into front of Fenton, and whispered. "What the hell, Flash?"

"He's not doing that!" Fenton hissed back.

"It's not your call to make."

Mrs Holliday coughed and directed a loud question at James, "Did Vanessa hit her head when she fell?"

"Probably, she dropped like a stone."

"She has a nasty bump. I think it's why she's not woken up yet, not because of the strangulation."

"What the verdict?" Con asked.

"Her neck looks awful, she's covered in bruises, and the knife cut looks sore but I can't find anything life threatening. My dears, we won't really know until she wakes up, but it seems to be good news. I've cleaned her up as best I can with the equipment I had."

And then, as if on cue: _"Mrs Holliday!"_ Joe called. _"I think she's waking up."_

-o0o-

"Come back, Van," Joe encouraged. He kneaded her fingers and patted the cool, wet cloth over her forehead Mrs Holliday had given him. "Talk to me, Babes. I miss you."

Vanessa, in the midst of her own personal battle, hauled herself to the surface with her hand gripped tightly to Joe's. Her breaths were stressed and panicked until she took in a big influx of bubbly air. She held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled slowly. Her eyes opened to look at him, but then slid shut again.

"Van?"

A few seconds later and she whispered, "I thought he'd killed me." Her other hand came up, cupped his cheek and her thumb stroked his face. "Jimmy?"

"Yeah, he pulled you back in time."

"I knew having a big brother would pay off," she said painfully and put her arm down. "I got myself one now."

Mrs Holliday appeared next to Joe. "She awake, Joseph?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Vanessa, can you open your eyes for me?" Mrs Holliday ordered.

Vanessa opened up, "Did we get Nancy?"

"No, babes."

"She's still with him?" Vanessa's face morphed into a grimace which mutated into heavy, bitter and tortured tears. "I want my mom!"

"Oh dear," Mrs Holliday said and patted her hand. "Never mind, never mind, I'll get you some water. You let it out." She glanced at Joe. "It's shock talking. It's okay, do what you've got to do."

Joe discarded the cloth and climbed up onto the table. He gathered Vanessa into his arms, and wrapped himself around her. "He's gone Van, he can't hurt you anymore," he promised, as he tucked her head under his chin and rocked her. "I won't let him anywhere near you. I'll die before I'll let him do that to you again. We tried to get to Nancy, James nearly did, but they had him outnumbered."

They stayed in their tableau for some time, locked in their private world. They didn't even register when Mrs Holliday left the water on the end of the table. Eventually, the heart-rending sobs reduced to more controlled sniffles and Vanessa pushed Joe away.

"You feeling better?" He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. "I don't like it when the woman I love's crying."

She went to reassure him but nothing came out.

Joe saw the water and helped her take a sip. "I feel like crap." She took another drink. "I need to speak to The Frankster while I still can, it's important. My throat's closing up."

"I can hear it. But Van, I need to know…that man…did he…you know…did he—?" he stroked her face and stared earnestly.

Vanessa frowned up at him, not understanding…but suddenly her brain latched onto his train of thought. "OH! No. He didn't touch me that way. He got off on watching my eyes. He did it like—" She cupped Joe's cheeks and pulled until his nose as good as touched hers and she looked directly into his eyes. "Like this. Just like this, but his eyes weren't like yours, they were soul-less. But he didn't touch me like how you're worried he did. He didn't, I promise."

"Good. Well, not _good_ , but you know what I mean. Babes, it must have been so creepy! I remember the way he stared at me in the woods, but at least he wasn't all up in my face." He laid her down on the cushion-come-pillow, slipped off the table and unfurled the sheet. "I'll get Frank now." He covered her upper body as her black bra proved to be the only thing saving her dignity. He didn't like to think how Frank knew his girlfriend's size when he'd kitted them out. He administered a healing kiss to his girl. "I'll get him."

Joe walked through to the living room. He stepped into an atmosphere rich with a heady mix of testosterone fuelled anger, guilt and something else he didn't sense often…fear? But absent of his brother. "Where's Frank?"

"Is she okay?" James asked disturbed. "We could hear her, she sounds real bad."

"She will be, she's okay. Stronger than she sounds. Much stronger actually." Joe recognised the emotions radiating from James. "James, Dude - don't do what you're doing to yourself. As someone who's been there, take my advice and don't do it. Vanessa knows you saved her. You've earned your status as big brother. Where's _my_ big brother?"

"Dunno. His room?"

Joe went out in the hallway but as his feet hit the stairs, he found Frank hunkered about halfway up, with Rebel a few steps down, the dog's head laid in his lap. "Dude, Van needs to…aw crap, you okay?"

"Not really," Frank muttered and wiped his face. "It's hard listening to her suffer. I should have listened to you when you said to send her away with Andrea."

"Dude, you won't believe how _uberly_ wrong one man can be! I told Van what I said and she tore into me, and I mean ripped me to shreds. It's why we didn't beat James to the conference room. Did you know a woman's rest room smells nicer and is cleaner than a man's? I know, cause Van cornered me in it as she yelled at me. Two women used the facilities while we were there, but Van wouldn't let me out. You made the right call; Van's in this for the long haul. She wants to be taken as seriously as Nancy." Joe made his way further up. "Mrs Holliday said Van's crying is her shock talking. What I said to you when we found Van in that state? _My_ shock talking, I didn't mean it."

"It's okay, Bro."

"No it isn't, I've got a big mouth." Joe shoved his leg between Rebel and Frank, sat down on the stair and draped his arm around Frank's shoulders.

"Joe," Frank pointed at his own face, "This is nothing to do with you. I can't even remember what you said. This is _my_ shock talking! Get Dad and Con to fill you in. You missed a lot of chatter.

"I heard shouting."

"We were venting." Frank stared at his fingers as they drummed a rhythm on his knee. "The therapy…one of the by-products…I can't always control my emotions and it comes out in ways I wish it didn't. It's humiliating. I never used to be like this! I'm gonna turn this whole thing over to Dad, I'm struggling, I'm not experienced enough, can't see the wood for the trees."

"Give yourself credit for how far you've come. Remember when I lost Iola and the churned up mess it turned me into? I've never been the same since. My fuse can be shorter than a matchstick and I'm hyper-fearful about Van's safety _all_ the time. Stop worrying about it. So what if your emotions get the better of you, who cares? Don't turn anything over to Dad, talk to Van first. She said she needs to speak to you before—"

-o0o-

Frank jumped up and ran down the stairs. He faltered at the end and half turned his head. "Bro, don't be tempted to look at my phone, yeah?" He carried on through to the dining room.

Vanessa saw him and stretched her arm out.

"Vanessa?" He took her offered hand and she drew him close. "I'm so sorry, Sis. This is all on me."

Vanessa swatted him and took his shirt to pull his face closer. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Aw Bro, stop playing the blame game. I'm on the team. I have to take the hits like the rest of you. Listen close. They had Nancy on the ambulance."

"We know, she—"

She tugged on a lock of hair and made him grimace. "Shut up! The woman…she told the Red-Headed Man he couldn't have her for two days as Nan's valuable because of her photographic memory."

"So I've got two days before the Red-Headed Man can do anything to her?"

Vanessa nodded and pointed at the water. Frank helped her to take another drink and she lay there with her eyes shut for a while. He thought she'd finished and decided to leave her alone. As he slipped his hand from hers, she gripped tight and her eyes popped open. "Did I fall asleep?"

"I think you did."

"I dropped my phone into the medical bag."

Frank pulled back, and his face opened up at the enormity of what she'd told him, delivered like a throwaway comment.

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. "You can trace it can't you?" She tugged on his hand. "You can trace it and we can get Nancy away from the Red-Headed Man. I'm right aren't I? Am I right?" Another tear ran down her cheek. "Frank, for goodness sake, tell me I'm _right_!"

The words trapped in his throat burst forth. "YES! Yes! Aw Sis! You've given Nan and us a real fighting chance!" He wiped her tear away, and she wiped his and then they hugged.

"Frank?" she whispered in his ear. "They don't know where we are. He thought I'd been helping to hide Nancy. We're safe here."

"I'm glad. Vanessa, you're brilliant. I'm making you my deputy."

"Frank?"

"Yes?"

"Will you take me to bed?"

Frank laughed. "Yes, to sleep. I won't tell Joe how you phrased it." He let her go, wrapped her up into a neat package - blanket, sheet and all, and lifted her. Her arms slid about his shoulders and she buried her face into his neck. As he passed the living room he raised his voice. "Joe, Vanessa asked me to take her up but I'd rather you did it."

Joe came out of the room. "Frank, what I've just been told. _Dude!_ No wonder you were in pieces."

Frank shrugged, "It's what it is. We'll deal with it." He gently transferred Vanessa into his brother's arms. "We'll try not to disturb you," he promised her.

"I've always liked your hair," she told him.

"Uh, thanks…you're not really awake are you?" She didn't answer him so he addressed Joe again, "Once Vanessa's settled can you come back? We need to have a meeting because she's told me something that's opened the game up."

"Is it about your hair?"

"No, but she's right. It's damn likeable."

 _"_ _Dare I hope?"_ Fenton called.

"Yes Dad, she probably likes your hair too. It's like mine, but peppery."

"I'm not talking about your hair...or mine. I'm talking about what she _told_ you."

"Yes, we actually _do_ dare this time. Vanessa's amazing!" Frank stepped into the doorway. "Con, I know you said you would keep it, but I need my phone back."

-o0o-

Frank didn't say anything to the others until Joe came down. He'd accessed his phone and paced up and down, staring at the screen and muttering.

Con took advantage of the lull in proceedings to update James on what happened with Arthur Gray and what he'd told them. James reacted like how they had, angry and bitter at being thrust into a situation where they had no control, but just as determined to overcome every obstacle.

Fenton had been staring at his own cell for a good five minutes. Finally, he said to Frank. "I've got to make a call to Carson. He deserves to know what's happened. He must be going out of his mind…not that it's going to help him on that score."

"Surely it's something I should be doing?"

Fenton shook his head. "It needs a father-to-father call, and he's my friend. I'm the right one to do it."

Frank put his hand out. "Give me your phone. I'll program Carson's number in."

"You remember it?"

"Everything's been filtering back, except for the code." Frank concentrated on the phone for a few seconds, as his thumbs did their work and then returned it. "I'm surprised at Nancy though. She's far more level-headed than me. It doesn't make sense she'd be hypnotised so easily. She hates Arthur Gray more than Joe does."

"Not as level-headed as you thought?" Fenton suggested.

"No, I'm right about Nan."

Fenton stood. "I'll phone Carson. This'll be a tough call to make. God knows I've no positive spin."

"Wait, Dad, until Joe gets here. I think I can give you a positive spin."

They heard the unmistakable sound of Joe's heavy footfalls and he rounded the bend in the doorway. "What you got for us, Dude?"

Frank held up the phone. "I got Nancy's location."


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

Everyone reacted with surprise and delight as Frank told them he had Nancy's location. What previously seemed a hopeless situation flipped on its head in four simple words. Buoyed by their physical responses, Frank continued to reassure them. "I don't know how Vanessa kept a clear head, but while the guy mauled her, she dropped her phone into a bag on the ambulance."

James clicked his fingers. "You said you could trace our phones if anything happened."

Fenton gave Joe a nudge. "If you don't marry the girl, I'll disown you."

Joe threw his dad a withered look.

Con spoke up. "Don't want to rain on your parade, Junior, but what if they abandoned the ambulance? What if all you have is the location of the vehicle and not Nancy?"

"They might have, but it seems they still have the bag. From the way it's moving, it's within the confines of a building." Frank stepped forward, "Look." He placed his cell onto the little table and they gathered around. The app showed a blue line where Vanessa's phone had been actively in motion, apparently around corners as if being carried in an enclosed space.

"Do you know exactly where this is?" Fenton asked, and slid his arm around Frank's shoulders. "This tech's awesome! I wish we'd had it in our day."

Frank patted his hand. "It's _still_ your day." He reached to press a couple of buttons. The view on the screen expanded out until the image of Earth filled the screen, and then drew in until a tiny pin landed on a mapped area. "There."

They looked, but the screen being so small, and so damaged meant they couldn't tell where the pin had come to rest.

Frank went to the bookcase and pulled down what appeared to be a book, but which turned into a large map as he unfurled it. "Bring my phone," he said, and led them through to the dining room. He spread the paper out over the table, flattened it, and took his cell from James. He looked from the map to the screen, and searched for common characteristics, such as water features, landmasses, roads and pathways. Eventually, he placed a finger on the map and asked Joe, "Would you agree this is where the pin dropped? You're better with maps than me."

Joe took the phone to double-check Frank's work. "Dude, more this way I think. It's difficult because the dimensions are wacky. What do you guys think?" He passed the phone across.

Fenton, Con and James commenced to bat opinions back and forth until Con eventually said, "We agree with Joe. 'X' marks the spot, Junior." He shifted Frank's hand to the right and slightly down.

Frank took a pen and marked the paper. "One remote location," he observed. "Fits the profile of a hideout."

"I'm sure it's something you considered when you selected this place." Fenton slipped his phone from his pocket. "Time to call Carson. I feel a bit better, but it's still going to be a hard conversation."

"Good luck, Dad."

"Thanks." Fenton headed for the door, but turned back. "They won't be able to trace the call and find us will they?"

"No. Your phone will block anyone trying to trace the signal."

Satisfied, Fenton left. They could hear him in the other room, but the chat presented as gibberish through the walls. His voice eventually stopped, and he came back. He looked troubled and disheartened.

"How did he take it?" Con asked, quietly.

Fenton shook his head. "How do you think? He wanted to come down here and help. Took all my negotiation skills to stop him. It's lucky he doesn't know our location. Carson's a good man, but not cut out for this line of work. We'd have ended up babysitting him." Fenton looked at Frank. "He said to tell you he understands. He just wants Nancy home and safe. He wants you to kill Arthur Gray."

"I'll do it," Con volunteered. "I hold him fully responsible for what happened to the girls today."

Mrs Holliday bustled into the room with a tray full of drinks. "Just what I like to see, my dears, teamwork at its best with no bickering." She put the tray down and backed out theatrically while pointing index fingers at Frank. "You find our girl, Frank Hardy, and you bring her here safe and sound."

Con went straight to the tray and picked up one of the cups. "How far away's the location from here?" He took a long drink.

Fenton consulted the map and pursed his lips as he calculated a figure in his head. "Probably twenty minutes to a half hour? No more for sure."

Frank checked his watch. "I want us to take a look. If we go under cover of darkness, we can see what we're up against. But I want to move Vanessa first, make her secure."

"You said we're safe, that the Red-Headed Man didn't know about this place!" Joe protested, bemused.

"I said I want to make her _secure_ , not _safe_."

"Dude, you specialising in confusion techniques or what? What's the difference?"

Frank grabbed one of the coffees and headed for the door. "Come with me." Joe moved, the others didn't. "All of you," he insisted.

They lifted coffees and followed him up the stairs to the second floor.

He took them through to the room of closets, where they gathered as Frank went to his own closet standing apart from the others. He slid the door open, reached his arm through the clothes, and up toward the top. He made a pulling movement and they heard a loud click. He backed out, put his hand round the side, and gave the heavy piece of furniture a shove.

To everyone's astonishment, the entire unit slid easily sideways and a doorway materialized behind.

"What's that?" James pointed.

"A panic room. I meant to show this to Vanessa but didn't get the opportunity."

They walked through.

The first room they entered had a large computer screen on the wall to the left of them, with two computers on a desk in front. "Mrs Holliday had fun with those," Frank said. "She's as keen on technology as Vanessa." He took a gulp of his drink and placed it down on the desk as he returned to the doorway. Using a handle on the back of the closet, he pulled it shut and hit a button positioned to the side. There followed an audible thud. "That secures it so no one can open it from the other side even if the lever's found." He gave the door an almighty heave to demonstrate its solid construction, then invited Joe to use his superior muscle power. Joe wasn't able to force it either.

"Tell me you can open the door again?" James asked, testily.

Frank jabbed the button and slid the door open easily. "It's purely mechanical. Not reliant on electronics. So even if it fails, it can be disassembled from this side. It can't be accessed from the other side."

They turned to look at the rest of the room. There were sofas in an L-shape in the opposite corner with a small table, and above, a line of CCTV screens. Frank pointed to a control panel on the wall. "If anyone gets in, you can turn these on and watch what's happening from the safety of the room. And through here—" He opened up another door, "A basic sleeping area. Two beds and a bathroom, I didn't think we needed more. Oh, and a kitchenette so Con can have his coffee."

They stuck their heads into the room.

"Frank, I've never seen anyone self-medicate like you." Con said and grinned at him. "This is awesome!"

Joe laughed. "Dude, you're _such_ a geek!"

"Geek's rule, Bro. Never forget it…and from what Dad said, if you're in your right mind, you'll be marrying the biggest nerd of us all one day."

"Hey, knock it off! Vanessa isn't a nerd, she's a computer expert. She's too beautiful to be a full-fledged geek."

"If it makes you feel better, keep telling yourself that."

Fenton narrowed his eyes at Frank. "You're a dark horse, Son. When were you going to tell us about this?"

"I wasn't, not if I didn't need to. Not about any of it."

"Why not?"

"Because if I'd have told you, word would've gotten out and this wouldn't have been the safe haven it's proved to be. If there's one thing I've learned, some things are better off not shared."

Nobody disagreed with him.

"So, we'll move Vanessa in here while we're out. I'd feel better knowing she and Mrs Holliday…and Rebel, can lock themselves in, if anything happens while we're not here."

"Me too," Joe said. "Shall we move her right now?"

"Yes."

"I'll get her."

-o0o-

Joe made his way to Vanessa's room. He opened the door and found Vanessa curled up tightly in the fetal position, still wrapped in the same blanket and sheet, and in the same clothes - minus her boots and socks. Rebel lay across the foot of her bed with his eyes on her. Joe went to her side, knelt down and ran his knuckle down her cheek. "Babe, wake up."

She stirred, murmured and opened her eyes to blink at him. "Leave me alone," she croaked. She snuggled further and pulled the covers up her chin.

Joe hooked the blanket with his finger and pulled it down. "I will in a minute. We're gonna head out. We think we've got Nancy's location so we're going on a reconnaissance mission. I'm taking you somewhere safer."

"Safer than here?"

"Unbelievably, yeah." He shooed Rebel off the bed, carefully lifted, and took her from the room and up the corridor. "We're not going far." He whisked her through the closet room, and through the door with Rebel literally dogging his steps.

"Am I asleep?" she asked and stared in confusion at the interior of the panic room.

"Probably."

The others turned and smiled at her.

"How you feeling, sweetheart?" Fenton asked.

"Okay. Sleepy." She held her hand out to Con who took it automatically. "Thank you for carrying me out of there."

"You knew?"

"I sensed it. Thanks Dad. And thanks for saving me, Jimmy. You're a good brother" She squeezed Con's hand and let go. "Frank, I'll be fighting fit tomorrow," she promised.

"See how you feel."

Con stared agog at her as Joe took her through to the other room with Rebel. "What did she call me?"

"'Dad," James said.

"She's tripping the light fantastic. Whatever Mrs Holliday gave her is strong stuff."

"She didn't give her anything," Joe said as he came out of the room and pulled the door behind him, leaving it ajar so Rebel could come and go.

"Dad, you're so thick skinned. She's thought of you like that for ages, just hasn't said it," James told him. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No." Con grinned stupidly.

-o0o-

Nancy woke, or at least her frontal lobe came too. She became aware of unfamiliar sensations, such as an overpowering, chemical aroma of disinfectant. Harsh, migraine-inducing florescent lights flooded its way around the edge of her eyelids. A burning sensation made her want to investigate the left side of her face…if only her hands would lift.

The floor pulsated under her back but she didn't know why...then all lucidity returned and she remembered what happened at the hotel. Panicked, her eyes shot open and she sat up on the gurney. "Where am I?" She asked, and tugged on the wrist straps. Her head whipped around, hair flying, to look behind at the man who pushed her along the unfamiliar corridor. "Answer me!"

They locked eyes for a moment, but then he looked deliberately away. He pulled the gurney to a halt, moved to the side, and widened his arms so he could swivel the trolley to a door as it opened. On the other side stood the woman who'd been looking for Nancy at the auction house, only now she had auburn hair and blue eyes. She wasn't as young as Nancy thought either, at least ten years older than herself. The woman grasped the end of the bed to pull her into the room. A second man stood at a table, his hands busy.

The woman spoke, "Nancy, you're in a facility in the middle of nowhere. No one knows you're here and no help's coming. You're going to give me Pandora's code or I'll turn you over to the man you met earlier at your hideout. Do you understand?"

Nancy's eyes darted. The room, white and clinical with unforgiving lights, a single table with the red medical bag she'd seen earlier, and two chairs. To the side, a hand basin with liquid soap and paper towels, and high up in the corner of the ceiling, a camera pointed in her direction. Nothing for Nancy's eyes to latch onto for hope, nothing at all.

The woman snapped her fingers in front of Nancy's face and drew her attention around and said again, "You're in a facility in the middle of nowhere. No help will come. You're going to give me Pandora's code or I'll turn you over to the Red-Headed Man you met earlier. If you force me to do that, he'll find another way to get the code from you. _Do you understand_?"

Nancy stared in confusion.

"Focus Nancy or this'll get messy very quickly. At the moment I'm your protector but I can't say how long I can keep the man at bay. He's already negotiating to have his fun with you and Frank Hardy."

"Frank Hardy's here?"

"No, but it doesn't mean my friend can't use you to goad Frank. If you cooperate, I'll stop him."

"I don't have the code." Nancy said. "I don't remember it. I don't know why."

"I know, but you will." The woman veered to the red bag and the table where the man had lined up various items, including a vial, a disposable hypodermic syringe in a sterile packet, and various swabs. The woman nodded in approval and stepped up to the wash basin to start the water running.

"What are you doing?" Nancy felt her heart pick up pace.

Her mind replayed the story Joe had narrated twelve months ago of his horrific encounter with the Pandora Posse, what they'd done to try and force information from him - information he didn't have to give. They hadn't believed him, and had intimidated him with knives and other weapons of torture, but ultimately he'd paid the price with electrocution and a bullet in the back.

Nancy didn't like this; she'd strayed far from her comfort zone, out of her depth, drowning. A far cry from her usual investigations, she considered this alien territory. "What's happening?" she asked and looked at the wrist straps to see if she could possibly get them open. She pulled on them to force her slim hands though the loops, but the cuffs were snug.

The woman finished washing her hands, returned to the table and pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. She moved to the syringe and tore open the packet. After, she turned her back and blocked Nancy's view. When the she pivoted back, she'd filled the barrel of the syringe with whatever had been in the vial. She tapped on it and gently pushed on the plunger to remove the air bubbles. A tiny amount of the liquid squirted out of the top. "I'm going to inject you so we can get at the code."

"Don't, let me think about it, I might remember it."

"You won't be able to."

"At least let me _try_."

The woman looked at the two men and nodded.

"NO! Don't you _dare_ touch me!" Nancy yelled and jerked madly on the restraints but one man grabbed her around the neck and shoulders to hold her tightly. The other grabbed her legs. The man at her shoulders and neck angled her face away so she couldn't see, but she felt a cold swab wipe her inner elbow. "GET OFF ME!" She jerked aggressively to throw the woman's aim off, but the man yanked her sideways until her wrist slid through the restraint as far as it could go, and her arm straightened. She felt the syringe being positioned. It punctured her skin, moved inside, and injected cold liquid in. Almost immediately, she lost perspective. "I don't want to die. Are you killing me?" she heard her voice ask from a great distance.

She floated down onto the gurney and into semidarkness.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

Nancy, forcibly injected into her left arm, drifted in a silent soup of twilight darkness. She didn't know where she floated, barely knew herself. Her grip on reality had utterly slipped. She tried to hold onto something but there wasn't anything there, her hands groping uselessly… _if_ they were her hands she felt about with and not thought tendrils. The feeling of floating nothingness made her sick and disorientated. _'Am I dying? Is this death?'_

The woman broke through Nancy's confusion, "I'm not killing you, Nancy, but I need to ask you some questions and what I injected you with will make you compliant and relaxed. Okay?"

"Okay."

"You'll only respond to my voice now, okay Nancy? I'll look after you but you have to do what I say. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Nancy, do you remember being on the Spirit of Oceanus with Frank Hardy?

"Yes."

"Go there Nancy and be with Frank."

 **…** **Nancy looked at Frank and smiled. 'Fierce', the only description that did his appearance justice tonight. He wore dark, figure hugging jeans, a dark shirt and classic jacket which molded in all the right places and gave him the classic 'V' shape. She smiled as he held her gently by the elbow, and began to guide her through the entrance doors.** ** _'Always the gentleman.'_** **The doorman nodded as they passed him …**

"No Nancy, further on. Can you remember how you found the portion of the code?"

"Yes."

"Go to that point in time and tell me about it, okay?"

"Okay."

 **… "** **Two still mineral waters please," Nancy asked the bartender.**

 **He turned away, and she, herself, turned her back to the bar and watched the other revellers dance. Nancy wondered if she and Frank would have time for another dance too. As her gaze panned to the left she noticed a painting on the wall. It stood out in comparison to the other artwork - a genuine canvas, as opposed to the other pictures which were murals painted straight onto the walls.**

 **She pushed away from the bar, and approached to take a closer look. The picture a montage of various Greek gods and goddesses, amongst them, the crab clawed deity, Oceanus. She stood back slightly and scanned the picture to look for the code, but she couldn't see anything. Eventually, her eyes dropped to the bottom corner and she finally saw a plaque. The writing said:** ** _'Kindly donated to the club by Professor Hope'_** **…**

"Is the code there Nancy?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what it is, okay?"

"Okay."

 **…** **The writing said:** ** _'Kindly donated to the club by Professor Hope'_** **and next to that: A hand slid over the plaque and obscured the numbers as a second palm slipped into her own to grip gently. Her attention diverted, she looked up to see Joe Hardy standing there with his special smile.**

 **"** **Nan, don't do it," he said. "Don't do what you're being asked."**

 **"** **I have to." She tried to move his hand away.**

 **He resisted, and instead put his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. "No you don't. Fight this woman, Nan. Use your extraordinary. You know this isn't right. Listen to your instincts. Get a grip!"**

 **Nancy relaxed into him, to take comfort in him and his muscles. Lovely, warm Joe Hardy …**

"Nancy, you've gone quiet. I asked you for the code."

"I…I can't see it. It's not there."

"Try again, okay?"

"Okay."

 **…** **Joe tightened his arms about her shoulders, didn't let the embrace go. "That's good Nan. Don't tell her anything. Stall her, be strong. You know we'll rescue you, we always do. Have faith, have hope."**

 **A man weaved toward them, a lascivious and creepy expression on his face, undressing Nancy with his eyes. Joe sensed his presence and let go with one arm, keeping the other draped across her shoulders protectively. As one, they spun on the man.**

 **"** ** _Get lost!_** **" Joe growled. The stranger froze before he could do anything, and tripped to the side.**

 **Frank materialised behind. He strode from the bathroom, shoulders tight, fingers twitching, eyes trained like lasers on the man's back - dangerous, dark eyes forbidding and full of wrath.**

 **"** **Whoa! Look at him," Joe muttered …**

"The code, Nancy."

"I…it's…I don't know, it's not here."

"You're lying to me Nancy—"

-o0o-

All five men wore black, courtesy of Frank's pre-planning. He also conjured up 9mm Glock pistols for them from behind another sliding cabinet - Con's this time. Each wore Kevlar vests and utility belts strung with pouches which housed enough spare bullet magazines to put even the Bayport Police Department to shame.

"What did I create?" Fenton asked Joe. "I remember a kid who used to stay up all night reading books under the covers, now, a transmutation of epic proportions!"

Joe didn't pause from snapping a gun holster around his thigh with his foot up on one of the chairs. After a period of consideration, he finally suggested, "Frickin' James Bond." He put his leg down and jostled the strapping until the belt sat comfortably.

"Bond's an Englishman. Try Jason Bourne. He fits the mold better."

Joe crouched down to tighten the laces on his army issue boots. "You regretting putting Frank in charge?"

"No. Frank's organisation's outstanding. His knowledge of Pandora's greater than ours, and his brain bends instinctively to the new Posse's way of thinking. He's not scared to make tough decisions and fight for them. I wish he'd quit with the self-blame. It's the one thing that could prove his downfall."

"And he's bossy!"

"Really Joe?" Fenton tittered. "I think you're the one with the leadership issues. You'll get your turn."

"He talked about turning the case over to you earlier. Taking a step back."

Fenton stopped. "When did he say that?"

"When I found him on the stairs. He seemed pretty down."

"My fault. I'd been resisting. I'll talk to him. Apologise."

"That's what you were arguing about?"

"You heard, huh?"

"You were _loud_."

Fenton looked away. "It wasn't a leadership battle. It wasn't even about what we were fighting over. I reacted badly to those pictures. Frank talked about using himself as bait. Took me back to him on the school roof. I'm the one who needs to step back. I floundered, I'm—"

The door burst open. "You ready to go?" Frank asked. His head appeared, almost caught them talking about him.

"In a sec." Fenton flicked a look in Joe's direction and Frank ducked back out.

"You okay Dad?"

Fenton shrugged. "I wish I could unsee those pictures. I don't know how Frank can stand to have seen them. Emily's right, he's much stronger now." He picked up his Glock pistol, pressed the magazine release and dropped the bullet cassette into his palm. "The conversation with Carson, it—" He stopped himself. "No. I shouldn't be talking to you about this, you're my son." He double-checked his gun, made sure it had its full quota of ammo and slapped the bullets back into place. "I'm glad you and James didn't see those pictures." He shoved his gun into its holster, clipped it securely in place and reached for his Kevlar vest. "Great weapon choice."

Joe shrugged his jacket on and stepped forward to help his Dad get the strapping right on his vest. He pulled with such vigor he took his father off his feet, and they both ended up laughing.

Eventually, Fenton picked up his jacket and slipped his arms into it. "Let's go. Nancy needs us. If it's gonna take Jason Bourne or James Bond to get this done, I'm happy for Frank to take on one of those personas."

Joe smiled tightly, "I sometimes pretend I'm Spider-man."

"Great story, Son."

"Says the man whose nickname's 'Flash'."

"Flash Gordon is Con's thing, not mine. I inherited it."

"Whatever, Dad. I've seen your phone's wallpaper."

"Shut up."

Joe sniggered.

They left the room and joined the others at the two vehicles. Joe got into the back seat of the car that had Frank at the wheel and James in the passenger seat. Con took the wheel of the other car with Fenton.

"I hope we don't get pulled over," James said, and looked down at himself. "Can you imagine the explaining we'll have to do? We look like we're about to rob someplace."

"We are, kinda," Joe said. "Have you forgotten, if we get pulled over it'll be by one of your pals? I don't think they're likely to ask too many questions, do you?"

"Remember this is a fact-finding mission only," Frank said. "Unless something amazingly fortuitous happens which means we can snatch Nancy away, she won't return with us." He clutched onto the steering wheel. "I wish I could make it happen though. I hope she's all right."

-o0o-

The five men positioned themselves on high ground looking down on a floodlit office complex. In front of them stood a large, white, office type building, two floors high. At the front were glass doors which spanned about three-quarters of the length of the building, glazed with obscured glass which prevented them from having an inside view. The building had room for parking on all four sides, with a ten-foot high wire fence, topped with razor wire encircling the entire complex. They watched as two gates opened automatically and silently, and a car drove through to leave.

"Frank?" Joe asked, as he watched through binoculars. "Once we're in…if we can even _get in_ …we'll be outmanned and outgunned. This place's in serious lockdown. Look at the amount of patrol guards."

"Let me see." Con held his hand out and Joe passed him the field glasses.

Frank answered Joe, "Don't underestimate the advantage of surprise, Bro. No one expects us to walk in through the front gates."

Con did a double-take, "Through the front gates? You insane?"

"Probably." Frank grinned wolfishly. "It's a wire fence. A good pair of cutters will get us through, but I hope we won't need to because I want us to walk through the front door. It'll send a strong message." Frank looked about. "Who's got the binoculars?" Con handed them over and Frank pressed them to his eyes. He dropped down onto his haunches.

Fenton followed him. "It's one thing getting us into the compound, but what about the cameras, the security alarms, and even worse, the guards?"

"There's always a way."

"What are you seeing we're not?" James asked.

"I _can_ see one thing." He pointed toward the front entrance, "Does anyone see the butt end of a vehicle jutting out the side of the building? Does it look like an ambulance?" He held up the field glasses and they were taken from his hands.

"I think you're right," Joe said. "The window's busted in. I guess it's our ambulance." He passed the binoculars to Con.

"Hmm." Frank stood, shrugged his backpack off, and dropped it onto the ground. He began to pull out notebooks and another couple of pairs of binoculars and handed them around. "Can everyone make notes on what you can see? Jot down the locations of cameras, spotlights - in fact any lights. Mark down areas in shadow because it will be potentially useful. Write down car plate numbers for Ezra later, and count the vehicles, it'll give us a rough estimate of the number of people here."

"I can't see to write," James observed. "It's dark."

"The sun going down will do that." Frank said dryly. He took James' pen off him.

"Very funny."

Frank clicked on the side of the pen and a tiny light came on. "Should be enough light to see to write, but not enough to raise the guards' attentions."

"Nifty!"

They all played with their pens and got the same result.

Frank slapped James' shoulder and turned his attention to them all. "I'll analyse the security detail to see if they follow a routine and eke out weaknesses. Don't turn your flashlights on, we don't want attention drawn to ourselves and don't get too close to the building." Frank looked at Joe. "Put your hat on, bro, you glow like a candle with your hair."

"Bossy!"

Frank's face dropped and Fenton swatted Joe's arm. "Meet back here in an hour. Don't go off on your own. Be careful - don't trip over your own feet."

" _Us_ be careful? What about you?" James asked. "We can't leave you on your own."

"No harm will come to me while they think I've got the code. The only person who realistically wants to hurt me is the psychopath, and they won't let him damage me yet."

"But—" Joe started.

"Get gone." Frank said firmly and turned away. "Do it for Nancy."

After a short pause, the four men reluctantly split up and headed in different directions, Joe and Fenton went one way, James and Con the other.

Frank looked around, found a relatively flat piece of ground, and dropped his backpack down. He took the binoculars, sat down on top of the bag so he wouldn't get his rump wet in the grass, and opened up his notebook.

He lifted up the field glasses, panned between the building and grounds, and then scribbled notes on his paper. He particularly watched the guards, who had a big presence in the compound - darkly dressed, powerful men who traversed the grounds and outer fence at regular intervals. Frank decided to time them and see if he could find a pattern at work. He retrieved a florescent stopwatch from his top pocket, crossed his legs, leaned his pad on this lap and became engrossed in his work.

Ten minutes later he observed a small car pull up outside the gates. A young guy emerged from the driver's seat, waved a hand to one of the guards and moved to the rear of his car to open the door. The guard strode across.

Frank quickly lifted the binoculars and observed the interaction of the two men. After a few minutes Frank grinned. Perhaps the guard problem won't be as difficult to take care of as feared! Frank dropped down the glasses and returned to clicking his stopwatch and making notes.

After a while he realized he'd lost track of time so he glanced at his watch and saw fifty minutes had passed. He returned to his writing, but mid-stroke his hand froze. He wasn't sure why, but became overcome with a feeling of being observed, exactly the same way he watched the building and its people milling about.

He continued to write, but also looked at more than the grounds. He began to glance about, but couldn't see anything out of place, so listened intently instead. He couldn't detect any movement in the undergrowth. Then he definitely heard a noise right behind him which had him, with lightning speed, onto his feet and spinning. He struck out with the heel of his hand, straight into the thigh muscle of whoever stood at his shoulder. The man toppled onto his back with a gasp, and Frank sprang up in a defensive martial arts posture, fists ready. Adrenaline surged.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**

"SHIT!" Frank blurted. He realised he hadn't defended himself from an unknown attacker at all, but had, in fact, used a martial-art punch on one of his better friends. He stepped up to the stricken person and dipped down to help.

James stood just behind the assault victim, his hands out, incredulous. _"_ What did you do that for? _"_

Con clutched his leg and grimaced as Frank helped him sit up. "Aw man! Sorry. I thought I had a stalker!"

"You do, but it's not me! I just got here but didn't want to disturb you. I didn't think you'd take it personally." On a whim, Con gave Frank a shove and he fell back.

Frank rolled all the way over until he came up onto his toes again. "I'm jittery; you shouldn't have crept up on me. For a big guy, you sure do move quietly."

"For someone smaller than me, you sure do slug hard! I've always prided myself on my talent for silent movement, now I wish I hadn't." He vigorously rubbed his thigh muscle and flexed his leg.

Fenton strode out of the trees with Joe. "What's going on?"

"Your son assaulted my leg because he didn't hear my approach."

Joe started to laugh.

"Joe, it's not funny," Fenton said and turned disappointed eyes on his son. "You've let me down, Frank. If I've told you once, I've told you a million times - if you're going to take out an opponent, go for the head. A leg shot won't cut it."

Joe laughed even harder, and James joined in.

"Thanks a lot, Flash," Con grumbled.

-o0o-

"Nancy, I know you're lying to me. Cooperate, or things will get worse."

"I don't want—"

"Nancy. Don't resist me, okay?"

 **…** **Joe laughed as Frank bounced the guy, who'd taken liberties with Nancy's mouth, off a table in the nightclub. Frank had delivered a lesson with his fists the man would never forget.**

 **"** **No one treats** ** _my_** **girl like that,** ** _Pal_** **!" snarled Frank into the man's face, let go of the scruff of his neck, dropped him onto the table and hit him again. Disappointingly, security were on the scene to intercede and stop Frank from doing anymore damage.**

 **Joe leaned toward Nancy, but she couldn't talk as she wiped her mouth with a tissue. "He loves you. Look at Frank** ** _fly_** **. He beat a guy to a pulp for you because he took advantage."**

 **"** **Joe, we broke up."**

 **"** **Did you?"**

 **"** **You know we did." …**

"You know we did."

"What did you say, Nancy? Nancy, who you talking to? Tell me who's with you, okay?"

"Okay."

"Well? Who you talking to?"

"No one...Frank."

"I'm upping the dose, she's still too resistant - - - Nancy."

"Yes."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. I'm in the dark, I can't see."

"Nancy, go to the _Spirit of Oceanus_ , to the painting where the code is, okay?"

 **…** **Nancy looked at the painting, the canvas going in and out of focus. Her eyes moved about the picture as she hunted for the code. It had to be here somewhere, as this picture stood out from the other artwork on the walls. The rest were crude murals painted straight on the walls, unlike this genuine oil painting on canvas. The crab clawed god, Oceanus, the largest character featured.**

 **Her eyes dropped to the plaque attached to the wall to the side of the picture. On the plaque, she found written: A palm slid into view and obscured the code, and another slipped into her hand. The distraction pulled her train of thought. She looked up startled to see Joe there. He turned her around and wiped the tears from her face. "Stop crying Nan and get clever, don't be a victim."**

 **"** **I can't help it, this is too difficult, I can't stop it."**

 **"** **Then** ** _don't_** **stop it. Give the woman what she wants, but lie. It's important you don't give in Nan,** ** _really_** **important. You trust me don't you?"**

 **"** **You know I do."**

 **"** **Then toughen up and lie through your teeth!" …**

"Nancy, you've gone quiet, I need the code and I'm going to get it one way or the other. Let it be this way and not with my Red-Headed friend who will use much tougher measures. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

 **…** **Joe squeezed her hand encouragingly, smiled his most special smile, and nodded.**

 **Finally, Nancy's eyes dropped to the plaque attached to the wall to the side of the picture. On the plaque, she found written: 'Kindly donated to the club by Professor Hope: ADBA …**

"ADBA? That's the first part of the code, Nancy?"

"No."

"No?"

"It's the _second_ part of the code."

"But it doesn't make sense. I'm told the code's made up of numbers."

"Digits."

"Explain what you mean, Nancy."

"Digits not numbers. Everyone assumed when Professor Hope said _'digits'_ he meant numbers…a classic red herring. He threw practically everyone off the scent. They're letters, not numbers."

"Thank you Nancy, but I want to know who you've been talking to."

"Frank Hardy."

"I don't believe you. It's someone you trust but not Frank Hardy. Tell me who it is."

"No one…I…I don't know what you mean."

"Who is it, tell me."

"No one…Frank Hardy."

"Stop crying, it's annoying. Tell me who you're talking to and I'll leave you alone for the night, okay Nancy?"

"I don't want to, I'm confused. I never forget anything."

"Tell me, I'm fed up of messing about with you. Tell me now, or I get the Red-Headed Man to find out for me and you don't want that."

"It's Joe Hardy. I'm sorry Joe."

-o0o-

The men returned to the hotel, cold, but safe. As soon as Frank shrugged off his outer gear, he unpacked the notebooks and laid them out around the table.

They all followed him into the dining room and took seats where their notebook waited. Mrs Holliday busied herself setting steaming cups and sandwiches in front of them. She returned momentarily to the kitchen.

Vanessa appeared, snugly wrapped in a nightgown. She looked much better than earlier. "Room for one more?" she croaked.

"Only if you're feeling up to it, Number-Two." Frank answered, and heeled the chair next to him, inviting her to sit.

Joe gave her a hug and guided her to the table.

Mrs Holliday returned with a bowl of ice-cream, set it down in front of Vanessa and rubbed her upper arms. "There you are, brave girl. It'll help sooth your throat."

Vanessa smiled gratefully "You always have the best solutions, Mrs Holliday."

Mrs Holliday smiled back. "I try." She then took her rightful place at the table and prepared to join in the planning process.

Frank looked around at each person in turn. "Let's do this."

-o0o-

The next morning, Nancy woke, heavy lidded and gritty-eyed, as though she hadn't been to sleep at all. She couldn't recall having gone to bed and she didn't feel refreshed. For a split second, she saw Joe perched next to her, but then he went and left her with the ghostly, residual feeling of having held his hand.

Nancy sat up and looked blearily about. She found herself in a startlingly white room, which housed only the hospital bed she'd woken up in, and a bedside cabinet. At the end of the bed on her feet, she found a folded change of clothes. On the top of the cabinet sat a plate of food - a sandwich and some fruit, along with a glass of water which had been there for some time, air bubbles clung to the inside.

Windows surrounded the room, glazed with opaque glass, which prevented her from seeing anything outside other than shadows. It also prevented anyone from looking inside at her. In the corner, a door to the outside and another mystery door on the opposite side. Both were shut.

Nancy looked down and, with a grimace, lifted up the bedclothes. She sighed with relief when she saw she wore the same clothes. At least she wasn't undressed.

She drew her knees up tight and chewed on her lip. She remembered being waylaid in her hotel room by the guy who'd terrified her, and his helpers, but she wasn't able to process what happened afterwards. Everything a jumbled mess. She knew it had something to do with the Pandora code and Joe featured heavily in it. Nancy also had an overwhelming feeling she'd somehow harmed or betrayed Joe, although she didn't know how or why she could have done anything when he wasn't even here. _'Or is he? Is he here and a prisoner like me? If Joe's here, what are they doing to him? More importantly what have_ _I_ _done to him?'_

Her left elbow felt sore, and both sets of arm muscles were stiff, like she'd done a major workout. She pulled up her sleeve and found the track marks left from the three injections, and then she saw her wrists, raw from her struggles against the straps. Now she remembered what happened - the woman injected her with something. She frowned, unable to remember what had occurred after.

Nancy's eyes returned to the food and she decided to eat it. She felt it would be best to keep up her energy levels, rather than allow herself to fade from hunger. She slid the plate forward and broke into the sandwich. Far hungrier than she thought, she finished it in seconds, then worked through the banana and apples, and swallowed down the water.

Feeling revitalized, she pulled the bedclothes off and slid from the bed. She carefully stood with her hand against the mattress, but felt surprisingly stoic on her bare feet. _'Wait? Where's my boots and socks?'_ She looked about the room, dipped to check under the bed and finally opened the bedside cabinet. They were nowhere to be found. Deciding not to worry about it, she turned and thoughtfully considered the outside door instead. She strode across and pulled down on the handle. The door opened readily inward and surprised her.

There were two men on the other side standing guard. They turned as one to block the exit and looked down at her. "Go back in," the one said, and pushed her chest so she stepped back into the room. He pulled the door shut.

 _'_ _Too good to be true.'_

Nancy headed for the other door this time and found it to be unlocked too. Behind, a tiny, windowless bathroom with no lock. Nancy sighed. She needed to use the facilities so she did, as quickly as possible with her foot braced against the door.

After flushing, she moved to the basin to wash her hands. As she turned on the faucet, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The features staring back made her grip the edge of the porcelain in shock. Her face, bruised black from her temple to her jaw line, her eye swollen. The white the color of blood, the blue of her pupil contrasted sharply against the scarlet surround, demon-like. The punch had come harder than she realised. Incomprehensible how her how her eye socket wasn't shattered. Her neck, as well as her chin, bore the outline of the Red-Headed Man's palm and fingers where he'd held her down and forced her face around to look at him.

Tears welled up but she blinked them away angrily and picked up the soap provided to wash her hands. _'Damn straight!'_ She would _not_ allow herself to be a victim. She really didn't want to dwell on things she could do nothing about, and she knew the bruises would fade given time. Her eye would return to normal.

On the small basin, a gift of a fresh toothbrush and some paste rested, so she cleaned her teeth thoroughly.

She next turned her attention to the shower cubicle and gazed at it longingly, wishing she could take a shower and wash all remnants of the Red-Headed Man off her. Just the thought of it made her frightened of the consequences of not being able to lock the door. She decided to do something crazy, but in her mind, necessary. She went through to the bedroom and opened up the outside door. The two men turned and moved to shove her back in again, but she calmly raised her palms. "Look, guys. I want to take a shower but I don't want anyone to walk in on me. Can you make sure no one does?"

They watched her silently.

"I promise I'll behave myself. Don't you have mothers, sisters or daughters? Imagine if they were in my shoes, how would they feel?"

The men glanced at each other and one of them nodded. "Make it quick."

"I don't intend on luxuriating, it's no spa."

The door shut and she headed straight into the little room. She quickly got the water running, stripped herself of her clothes, checked the temperature and stepped in the small stall. After a speedy soap down, she exited and took down the bathrobe she'd seen on the back of the door. She wrapped herself in it and stepped into the bedroom to get the pile of fresh clothes.

She froze in her tracks at finding the tall, Red-Headed Man there, and staring with those black, emotionless eyes. His hands were behind his back, as he stood upright and unmoving. "What do you want?" she asked, and pulled the bathrobe even closer. She knotted the belt tightly - she knew it wouldn't provide much protection but…well…better than nothing.

He startled her by rolling on his toes and suddenly striding forward. She barrelled backward into the bathroom to avoid him, but he carried on his fast approach, no mercy given to her obvious fright. He shoved the door open with a bang and now had some sort of twine in his hand. As he backed her into the wall, the cord instantly found her neck and pulled tight. His face came in close. "Give me Frank Hardy." He stood so near his lips brushed hers slightly.

She closed her eyes struck dumb with terror.

"Look at me."


	24. Chapter 24

**I've just realised that I didn't thank the guest reviewer for giving such a nice review of chapter 22. Yes, Frank DID take out one of his own, the great Nincompoop! :-D**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 24**

 _"_ _GET OUT!"_ A female's voice shouted from the doorway and Nancy felt the Red-Headed Man's grip loosen on the cord.

His face retreated, and sighed audibly in frustration. Nancy opened her eyes and saw the woman who'd injected her. The man wasn't looking at the woman, he still, chillingly, stared malevolently at Nancy while he retained a loose grip on the twine - he hadn't removed it from her neck.

The woman didn't look happy. "You know the agreement…I use her now for the code, you get her afterwards. Stick to the plan and stop interfering."

Nancy wished he would stop looking at her but his dead-eyed gaze didn't waver.

"I want Frank Hardy and she must know where he is." His head tipped sideways as he studied her, and his fingers twitched against the skin of her neck.

"If you stick your nose in again I'll report your interference upward."

"I want Frank Hardy," he repeated, and retightened the cord.

Nancy snatched at his wrists and braced to try and prevent him contracting the cord further. Her life on a knife-edge, she needed the woman to make him go away. She tried to swallow down her fear, but it hurt.

The man smiled and his tongue flicked between his teeth, lizard like.

"If I can help you find Hardy, will you leave me to get the rest of the code out of her?"

"I will." His eyes finally left and the twine slid free of Nancy's throat. He left the room.

The woman held Nancy's change of clothes, which she tossed. Nancy caught them with one arm. "Get dressed, we've got work to do," she ordered and left.

Nancy put her hand over her neck and took a couple of deep breaths. _'Joe, that man's one scary dude!'_

She took the camouflage green cargo pants and, without removing the robe, pulled them up her legs, zipped and buttoned them. Next, she turned her back to the door to drop the robe, and pulled on the black tank top. Feeling less vulnerable, she turned thoughtfully to the door and moved quietly to it. She opened up silently and took a peek through an inch gap.

To her relief, the scary guy had gone, no sign of him anywhere, and she couldn't sense his intimidating presence. The woman stood there, looking out the other door, which hung open wide. Nancy guessed what the woman had been waiting for when she heard the wheels of the gurney clatter up the corridor. The two guards were there, but as the bed on wheels slid into view, they moved to the one side to allow entry.

 _This is the moment!_

Nancy pulled the door open, charged the woman, and drove her elbow into her ribs. With a loud whoosh of air, the woman went down.

The guards turned quickly, but were too late to prevent Nancy from using her hip and weight to shove the gurney sideways at them, putting as much strength into her attack as she could. Nancy knew what she'd done would bruise her leg, but didn't want to waste the opportunity to escape. She needed to give it her best shot…even if it meant hurting herself. The gurney hit and thrust them to the side, the force she used potent enough as to send them sprawling.

Equally as satisfying - the man who pushed the gurney didn't see her coming at all; he certainly didn't see her fist coming in to sock him in the nose. His face rocked to the side, blood sprayed, and she followed up with a knee to the groin. He folded in the middle with a groan and she used his own momentum to pull him over the gurney. He and the gurney both went down, pinning the guard to the tiles.

Nancy took off, her intention to put as good a distance between them as she could. She didn't have to look back to know what they were doing. The woman had started to shout, and the gurney scraped the floor as they moved it. She knew it wouldn't be long before footfalls would be after her - not yet though! Nancy burst through the door at the end of the passageway and almost stopped completely in her surprise. Her bare feet slid on the shiny floor, and she careened into a railing at waist height.

She caught herself against the guardrail and looked up. Pandora gazed back at Nancy from a massive screen, the star of the game Professor Hope had created - a pretty, stylized Grecian girl in a white toga with braided, long brown hair and bangles encircling her biceps. She watched Nancy with her arms folded, her fingers drumming against the top of her arm impatiently. Four text boxes waited below Pandora for the potions of the code to be entered. In the second box the letters _ADBA'_ were keyed in. Although Nancy couldn't remember the code, she knew it had been made up of numbers, not letters… _'I lied!'_

Nancy pulled herself together and took off to the right. The walkway she found herself on ended with a set of stairs. She ran by four or five doors and took to the steps as the door she exited crashed open and footsteps came through in hot pursuit.

She vaulted the last few steps and ran forward into an open plan office with row upon row of metal, white desks, drawer pedestals and PCs facing the large screen, turned toward Pandora. Operators worked at three-quarters of the desks and their faces swerved at the shouts behind them, then they turned toward Nancy as someone above bawled for them to stop her. Several rose from their chairs and one moved toward her to cut her off.

 _'_ _What the hell_ _is_ _this?'_ Nancy thought and took a quick, information gathering glance around to find the main doors at the far end of the bullpen. She realized the man who left the chair would be on top of her in seconds if she didn't shift, but others also got to their feet and moved to cut off the most direct route to the exit. So she ran forward, took a leap onto the closest empty workstation, and took three strides to jump across to the next desk. She slipped down onto the glossy floor and lost traction, but gathered herself and ran like a pro-sprinter for the doors.

People were getting in on the hunt, but she dodged and swerved, and eventually emerged from the jungle of office equipment and furniture. The people were a bizarre mix of individuals, unable to cope with a real life game of Pacman against an athletic woman. Whoever these computer people were, they obviously weren't trained agents - they were an unfit, disorganized bunch of what Nancy could only describe as…nerds. She realized she'd outrun, or at least outfoxed, everyone.

She went straight for the doors and made her way along them. She pulled and pushed on the handles, desperately trying to get one to open. They seemed locked down, until her hand bore fruit and a door began to swing. Unfortunately, as she stepped out, someone ran at her from the other side and tackled her heavily about the middle.

"NO!" she screamed in frustration as they both went down. Her attacker lost his grip and she slid some distance on the shiny floor, colliding into the side of a desk. She grabbed the top of it and started to lever herself up, but before she could finish the move, he grabbed her again. She wrestled desperately with him, even fought dirty by clawing and drew blood. Somehow she got the upper hand by hammer-punching him in the chin, but he ended up across her shins, and she couldn't scramble out from under him before more hands took her arms and legs and pinned her to the ground.

"Get off me!" she shouted, but she knew in her heart she'd lost the fight, especially when the woman approached with another syringe. "Damn you!" Nancy screamed, "Damn you all, COWARDS! Joe will come and he will take you down and he'll bring Frank Hardy and Frank Hardy will come for me. Frank will rescue me and Frank will come for you, ALL OF YOU!" And she knew; she knew she loved Frank Hardy and she'd somehow been duped into not being with him, and he'd been deceived too.

-o0o-

"How's it going?" Frank asked Vanessa as he entered the panic room.

Vanessa had been hard at it all morning, rallying her troops - her _'Dark-Net Army'_ as she'd decided to name them, those faceless individuals who would support them as they went to war with _Hope Industries_. She waved Frank into the room excitedly. "Frank, come here! Live Attack wants to say hello."

"Say hi back. Who's _Live Attack_?"

"LA for short. The friend I told you about, the one with the questionable past, but a brilliant hacker and programmer with a ton of contacts. But he thinks he knows you and is insisting you both speak. He's created a secure chat window so no one can overhear."

"Your voice sounds sore." Frank observed as Vanessa got up so he could sit in her place.

"It is. Ignore that and talk to LA, I'm curious as to how he knows you."

"I doubt he does; probably said it to make me talk to him. I'm happy to. He's doing us a massive favor. He didn't need to play games. What alias you using?"

"Blondie, but only in front of the Dark-Net Army, he knows my name's Vanessa."

"I'm playing it safe." Frank introduced his fingers to the keys and typed in the text window. _"Hi, Blondie thinks you know me?"_

 _"_ _Frank, I bloody_ _do_ _know you, it's Mark Randall."_

Frank paused as his brain processed this out-of-left-field coincidence. _"MARK! As in…Kiwi, Rob, Alex and Helen…Mark?"_

 _"_ _I nearly fell off my chair when your name cropped up. I had no idea YOU were the poor sod wrapped up in this. I only twigged when Joe's name got included. This is ace!"_

Vanessa broke into their conversation. "Who's Mark Randall?"

"Someone Joe and I stayed with in England a few years ago. Helped him and his friends out with a problem they were having with a stolen ring." His face dropped. "Alex got badly hurt. It wasn't a good time." He went back to talk to Mark. _"Why are you operating on the other side of the law? I thought you were straight up. What happened?"_

 _"_ _Mate, nothing happened. It's my cover story; it helps me gain people's trust. I work with British Intelligence and track online criminal shenanigans; been doing it for a couple of years. I knew about Pandora on the periphery, but it's only now I've taken an interest. The British government knew of Vanessa's involvement, and we're acquaintances, so I've been asked to take a closer look. There's been an increase in online activity with the 'P' program. From what Vanessa told me, it sounds vicious!"_

 _"_ _It's had its moments."_

 _"_ _Tell Vanessa she should use a microphone, and some voice recognition software instead of typing, it'll be quicker."_

 _"_ _She can't, she's not got much of a voice or she would have otherwise."_

 _"_ _Why?"_

Frank explained to Mark about what happened. It didn't take his friend long to understand the stickiness of their situation.

 _"_ _Mate, do you want to me to send Rob and Kiwi to you? We can book them on a flight, be with you in a couple of days at most. You guys left a big impression here. Once they find out what's going down, they'll be biting at the bit to help."_

 _"_ _If you'd offered a couple of days ago, I would have agreed instantly, but we don't have days…Nancy doesn't have days. We need to move tonight."_

 _"_ _I can definitely help you. It's been easy for Vanessa and me to get this Dark-Net Army together. Folk have been happy to get on board; they've been waiting for you."_

 _"_ _What do you mean?"_

 _"_ _The second I said your name, peeps were coming out of the ether to talk. Your name, and Joe and Nancy's are well known. They know you were responsible for taking down Pandora the first time."_

Frank raised a surprised eyebrow _. "How?"_

 _"_ _Background chatter."_

 _"_ _How's it even possible? We've never talked about it publicly."_

Vanessa jumped in, "It would've taken one loose tongue. Think about it, Frank, even Collig knew and his boys were involved, so one of them could have blabbed." Frank went quiet, so silent Vanessa spun his chair so he faced her. "What is it?"

"Do they know everything? Like…how I imploded out on the school roof?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, sorry Frank." Vanessa took his hand. "They know practically everything. Right up until you were rescued off the roof, and Nancy went after Pandora."

"Huh." Frank's shoulders sagged and a hand ran through his hair. "So much for privacy, but I guess it's worked to our advantage, so I'll suck it up."

"The dark net knew something had gone down because you went off-line and no one could find you. They were worried something had happened."

"Really?"

"Over the last few days they've been searching for you everywhere on the grid. You use the net a lot and leave a strong digital presence, so when it disappeared a few days ago, they got worried. Some thought you were dead."

"I don't die so easy." Frank turned back to the computer, seeing Mark had tried to speak to him several times. _"Van told me you know what happened with Pandora the last time."_

 _"_ _I do, and you've got a lot of friends here who are going to help. It should hopefully shift the weight to your advantage. We can do this. It'll be like old times, Pal. From what I can gather, the last time you faced it alone? It's not happening this time. You'll have your army."_

 _"_ _It's great to have you on-board. I'll turn you back over to Vanessa because I need to get on with some other stuff. I'll send Joe to speak to you later."_

 _"_ _Be great to catch up. Joe's a sound bloke."_

A cough from the PC next to Vanessa made them turn their attention to Mrs Holliday from her position of manning the other machine, in the midst of researching the facility they'd visited. The place where they believed Nancy's kidnappers were holding her against her will.

Rebel sat between her and Vanessa and Mrs Holliday's fingers played over his head as he gazed dreamily up at her. "My dears, I've found out what the building's used for, or at least what it's registered as."

"Tell us more," Frank said.

"It's registered under the company name _'Hope Industries'_ and is a software development company, but I think they've done the same trick you did with this place. They've registered it legitimately, but using it for another purpose. If you look at the accounts, at first glance, they seem to be doing well…but _too_ well for a business only trading for a matter of months. The building's state of the art too."

"Is it hackable?" Vanessa asked.

Mrs Holliday tittered. "Oh yes, Child, _satisfyingly_ hackable! A far as I can tell the whole building's fed into the online network. My best guess? It's under the control of a parent operation."

"Your best guess is good enough for me," Frank said, and gave Mrs Holliday a peck on the cheek. "Any blueprints?" He gave Vanessa the seat back so she could return to Mark, and her Dark-Net Army.

"Printing them out for you, now." Mrs Holliday headed for the copier.

"You should share those with Mark so he can give his contacts the heads up." Frank looked critically at Vanessa. "Vanessa, this isn't too much for you is it? You look like death. You're so pale!"

"Oh thanks, flatterer," she said and nudged him. "I think I'm rockin' the emo look. If being off my feet for a few days is what it takes, so be it. More ice-cream I say!"

"You're brave."

"Not brave, necessary. And no braver than you'd be."

"Having Mark on board's a great advantage. At least now we know he's trustworthy, and he can be your backup. Don't hold anything back now, tell him everything."

"Can you stop Joe from making a fuss around me? It's disruptive."

"I'll try. Did you find anything out about the _'Authority'_ Gray described to Joe and Con?"

Vanessa shook her head firmly. "Mark even looked for us. There's no intel…zero…zilch! I agree with Dad, I think Arthur Gray's a fantasist, but we can't take anything for granted. I think it best we assume Gray's speaking the truth so our guard remains up."

"I agree."

Mrs Holliday returned with two large sheets of paper and turned them over to the older Hardy brother.

"Thank you." Frank exited the panic room. He shook his head at the remarkable good fortune of having Mark's help, while he ran his eyes over the blueprints. He took to the stairs, jogged down and moved into the dining room. The others sat around supping coffee. "Joe."

"Yep?"

"Vanessa said to leave her alone."

Joe's hands came out wide."What did _I_ do?"

"You've been fussing around her and its driving her mad, so back off. If she's not up to it, she'll tell us. While she's able to help, we need to allow her to choose where to direct her energy. Don't make her lock you in the John again."

Joe's mouth lifted on one corner. "I probably _am_ hovering too much; call me a hover-boyfriend. I'll back off."

James grinned conspiratorially at Joe. "Shall I take over as a hover-brother instead?"

"Leave her alone," Con said, warningly. "She knows what she's doing."

"Sheesh, kidding, Dad."

Con winked. "I know it's coming from a good place. It's taken all my self-control not to go up there and make her go to bed. Her neck's so bruised; I can only imagine how she feels."

"I've got something else to tell you, Joe, but take a look at this first." Frank went to the dining table. He swept the map to one side and placed the sheets of paper down side-by-side.

"What you got?" Fenton stood to look.

"Plans of the complex, upper and lower floors. Useful to work out what each part of the building's used for. Pin down where we should concentrate our efforts later."

They gathered around to see the floor plan. Immediately they noted the huge, open plan office space on the first floor.

Fenton grunted. "As far as I'm concerned, the first and probably only priority is to get Nancy out. If we can work out where she's likely located, it'll be a huge weight off my mind. I don't care what happens to Pandora after. She can take over the world as far as I'm concerned, so long as Nancy's safe. I promised Carson."

"Quite," Con agreed, "Drew's one of us. Wow, there's a lot of rooms on the second floor. It's not gonna be easy finding her, no obvious prison rooms on this blueprint."

"I wouldn't worry," Frank said quietly. "They'll be begging to hand her over by the time I'm done with them."

They put their heads together and shared thoughts as they pinned down every detail as it came to them. Frank filled them in on what Vanessa had planned with her online friends, and what equipment they needed. No further questions were verbalised; it seemed simple enough, or as simple as one of Frank Hardy's plans ever got.

As the conversation reached its natural termination, Frank addressed Joe. "Go upstairs and have a chat with Vanessa's contact."

"Why? Is he flirting with her? I wouldn't blame him, she's hot-to-trot!"

"Smooth, Joe." James said.

"Doubtful he's hitting on her, Bro. It's Mark Randall."

Joe frowned. "Mark from England?"

"The same."

"But—"

"Don't worry, he's not gone rogue. Go talk."

Joe left the room, and they heard him bound up the stairs.

"You know the guy?" James asked.

"We helped him and his friends out a few years ago. It's unbelievable it's the same man. He's working in British Intelligence. Sounds like he knows what he's doing. He's trustworthy and on our side. He'll go the extra mile. I told Vanessa to use him as a backup. If she goes off her feet, he should be able to cover for her. This is the best news!"

"Whoa!"

"I know. It's great. It's given us a safety net for the weakest part of the plan."

"Don't refer to Van that way, Frank. She's not counter in your game of strategy, standing on an inconvenient square on your board," Con objected.

Frank was hurt. "Con, do you really think I meant it that way? I meant we don't have to worry so much about her now. She can rest if she needs to, doesn't have to carry so much. Mark will be able to communication with the Dark-Net Army so much better than Mrs Holliday if push comes to shove."

"Oh…sorry, my bad."

Frank looked around at everyone. "Can someone come with me to the bank? I have to withdraw some serious money and visit a pharmacy. The last thing I need is to get mugged, or, even worse, snatched off the street at this late stage in the game.


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

"Nancy?"

"Yes."

"I want you to go to the _Universal Studios Orlando_ , okay?"

"Okay."

"Where are you?"

 **…** **Nancy put her palm over Frank's hand as he shifted gears. They were in the red convertible he'd hired, the wind in their hair. She gripped her tresses which had previously been blowing all over the place, now held fast against her shoulder. Frank grinned. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. She smiled back. His attention switched as he saw a sign for the** ** _Universal Studios,_** ** _Orlando_** **attraction …**

"That's nice, Nancy, but I want you to move on further. Go to _The Lost Continent_ and go straight to Poseidon's arm. You there?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

 **…** **Nancy and Frank surveyed the fiberglass arm as it thrust out of the ground, holding fast to a trident. The arm was the gateway to the _Poseidon's Fury_ attraction. They approached and looked up at it, hand-in-hand.**

 **"** **I really hope the code isn't right up there," Frank remarked, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare.**

 **"So do I, but I doubt it. Professor Hope wouldn't have been able to get that high."**

 **Frank raised his eyebrows in agreement, and held crossed fingers up. "Okay, you take the arm, I'll take the trident and I'll meet you back here." He walked off to the right.**

 **Nancy traversed the arm the other way. She looked up and down and scanned the fibreglass structure carefully for signs of a plaque or something similar. Hurried steps came her way, and Frank's hand found her arm. "I've got it!" he said, excitedly …**

"Did Frank find the portion of the code, Nancy?"

"He's showing it to me."

"This the first portion?"

"The third."

"Tell me what it is."

 **…** **Footsteps pounded up and Frank grabbed her arm. "I've got it!" he said excitedly, and pulled her around to the trident end. He indicated to a plaque just above his head, probably too high for Nancy to have found it. She focussed, but a hand suddenly pressed over the plaque to obscure it. Another hand slipped into her palm. She knew it wasn't Frank because he stood on her other side. Startled, she looked up and found Joe there.**

 **He grinned down at her. "Remember, Nan, give the woman what she wants, but lie. Trust me." …**

"Nancy, I'm suspicious. You've gone quiet. Is Joe Hardy with you?"

"He's…only Frank."

"I don't believe you. Is Joe there? Tell me, or I'll get the man and he'll find out for me."

"It's Joe's, he's here."

"What does he want?"

"He keeps talking about Frank loving me. I told him we broke up, but he won't stop."

"He distracting you?"

"Yes, it's what he's doing."

"Hmm, well, don't listen to him. Give me the code, Nancy."

 **…** **Joe laughed. "You're pure gold, Nan. Good, quick thinking. Now lie through your teeth."**

 **"** **I've got it!" Frank told her, and eagerly pulled her around the trident end of the sculpture. Above his head, a plaque clumsily glued on. Etched upon it in black writing were the digits: '** ** _ZXZY'_** **. …**

"' _ZXZY'_? Confirm it's the third portion of the code, Nancy."

"It's the third portion."

"I'll give you a break now Nancy. I want you to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

-o0o-

Every night, as regular as day becomes night, the pizza delivery boy found himself traversing the same stretch of road toward the _Hope Industries_ offices. At no point would he receive an invitation to step inside, instead, forced to stand outside in the cold and feed them through a gap in the wire fence. After, they left him with a derisive tip along with the instruction, _'Same time tomorrow. Don't forget.'_

However, this night would prove different.

As he rounded a bend in the road, his headlights picked out the lone figure of a darkly dressed man. He had an arm stretched out with something in the hand. The man had an official look - upright and officious, sure of himself, tall and stocky…strong.

As the car slowed and rolled forward, the boy saw in the man's fingers a badge of some sort. He squinted to try and work out the insignia, but a tap on his window pulled his attention elsewhere. Another guy stood next to his car, a younger man this time. This guy held a police identification wallet and made a rolling movement with his hand. The lad dropped his window. "What did I do?"

"We need your assistance is all," said the police officer. "I'm on official business." He tipped his badge towards the bigger guy, who strolled over to them. "This is my partner Lieutenant Con Riley. You heard of him? He's well known."

The boy wracked his brains. "The name sounds familiar. You with the Bayport Police Department?"

"Yup, that's us, the BPD."

"Hi, Kid." Con pocketed the fake police ID James had been given in New York and leaned to rest his forearm on the roof of the car. He joined in the conversation. "We've an investigation going on at _Hope Industries; s_ ome dodgy deals going down. We've observed you driving to the offices to deliver pies. You heading there now?"

"As always." The kid rested a wrist on the window and leaned conspiratorially toward them, "I always thought the place dodgy."

"The government needs your help, Son. We need access to your pizzas, and then we need you to deliver them."

"What you gonna do to them?"

James smiled. "I'm not gonna lie - tamper with 'em."

The kid squinted. "I'm not sure I'm happy about that. I'll lose my job and it's putting me though college."

"I doubt it'll come to that." Con unzipped his jacket and reached inside, "But just in case—" He pulled free a large envelope. "You'll be compensated for possible loss of earnings. How much does it cost to put someone through college, these days?" He tossed the envelope into the kid's lap. "Would twenty grand help?"

"Uh—" the lad opened the flap, peered inside and reached in the draw out several bill rolls. He didn't need to count the cash, he could tell at a glance, and by the weight it probably held that amount of money.

James threw his dad a look. "Wrong - there's twenty-five Gs in there, not twenty."

"My bad. Yeah, twenty-five grand. What do you reckon, kid?"

"I reckon I'm feeling public spirited tonight." The kid leaned to stuff the envelope in the glove box, got out and opened the rear door. "Have at 'em. Can't stand those guys - bunch o' rude jerks. I hope whatever you do keeps 'em on the crapper for days."

-o0o-

"Nancy, I'm injecting you again so I can ask you some more questions."

"Please don't. I lose myself."

"I have to - - - that should do it. Nancy, I want you to go to when you and Frank were in Bayport and you split up to go to look for the two final parts of the code. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Where are you?"

"Leaving the airport."

"Tell me about it."

 **…** **Frank and Nancy walked to the long-stay lot to collect Nancy's car. The valet dropped it off and Frank loaded their bags into the trunk. They were going first to the library to drop Nancy off. There, she would look for the final four digits of the code. After, Frank would move on to the** ** _Dunbarton Oaks_** **to look for the first section of code. Finally, they planned for Nancy to ride a cab back to the** ** _Oaklands Hotel._** **…**

"Wait there a moment Nancy. Did you say the _Oaklands Hotel_?"

"Yes."

"Is it where you and Frank were hiding out?"

"I don't—"

"Nancy, give a straight answer to my question, okay?"

"Okay."

"Well?"

"I, I mean I don't—"

"I think I'll give you another dose - - - I'm asking you again, Nancy. Is it the place where you and Frank hid?"

"Yes."

"Could Frank be there now?"

A pause. "Frank's a logical guy."

"You may have just bought yourself some extra time. Well done, Nancy. Go back to sleep."

-o0o-

The Hardy men stood on the high area overlooking the complex - the same spot where they'd hung out the previous night. They watched as the car pulled up with the pizza on board. The lad got out and went to the back where he extracted the pies and passed them, one-by-one through the gap in the fence. He accepted his payment, got back into his car, and drove away with a cocky wave.

"Good boy," Fenton muttered. "Went without a hitch."

"Assuming Con and James managed to waylay and persuaded him of course," Frank said, and turned quickly.

In fact, all three men had spun at a shuffling noise behind them. They dropped simultaneously into defensive postures.

"Is this gonna happen _every_ time? If so, I'm making a whistling approach in future." Con strode out of the thicket with James.

"We're being careful," Joe said. "Did you get to the pizza delivery kid?"

"We did, and his eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets when he saw the money. He's working himself through college so it'll make a massive difference to him."

A car engine revved, and they turned to look toward the office lot. A dark colored car came out of the garage area at a fast lick, and headed for the open gates. It drove through, turned left and accelerated away.

"I wonder what that's all about," James wondered.

"Who cares," Joe said. "Look at the security guards…yeah, go on, take great, big bites. Yummy pizza, best you've ever had!" He started to snigger at the consequence of what they'd done, and what would soon be happening to them.

-o0o-

"Nancy, you with me?"

"Yes."

"I want you to go straight to the Bayport Library."

"Okay."

"You there?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about when you found out about the code Frank found at the _Dumbarton_ Oaks, okay, Nancy?"

 **…** **Nancy sat at a table with a huge pile of books in front of her, frustrated. The portion of the code she tried to find proving to be the most problematic of all. The only clue she had - an unintelligible icon. A line drawing of a downward curve (or upside-down smile) positioned above a double-headed arrow. None of the books related to Greek gods and goddesses had so far been of help. Infuriating!**

 **Her phone vibrated. She looked at the screen to see a message from Frank which said,** ** _"Got it!"_** **She sighed, Frank had beaten her to the punch. His jubilant message sent her competitiveness into maximum miff-mode! …**

"Did Frank find the portion of the code, Nancy?"

"Yes."

"Can you give me the code, okay?"

"Okay."

 **…** **Her phone vibrated, and she looked at the screen to find she'd received a message from Frank,** ** _"Got it!"_**

 **Someone dropped into the seat next to her and snatched the phone from under her nose. She watched as a mystery hand placed it screen side down on the table. Surprised, she looked over to find Joe there. He smiled and opened one of the books. "Now that's some heavy reading. You two need to get out more. How the long and lonely nights must fly by."**

 **"** **I'm looking for the impossible-to-find answer."**

 **"** **I'll give you a hand in a bit, but don't tell the woman the code, Nan. You know you shouldn't." …**

"Nancy, the code, give it to me and stop listening to Joe going on about Frank loving you."

"Okay."

 **… "** **Lie, Nan," Joe said. "Trust me."**

 **Her phone vibrated. She lifted it from her pocket, and accessed the screen. It contained a jubilant message from Frank which read,** ** _"Got it! = BJOW. How r u getting on? F x."_** **…**

"Pause there, Nancy. Are those the first four digits on the code _?"_

"Yes."

"Okay Nancy, good. Go back to sleep. I'll be back in a few minutes, and we can talk about those last four letters."


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

Joe and James laughed hysterically as the guards succumbed to whatever poison had been administered to them via their pizza pies. About half of them, so far, had taken a turn for the worse. Two were throwing up in the corner of the car lot, one unable to get up off the ground; another ran headlong into the building, presumably to the bathroom; and two further guards were unsteady to say the least. The final three were staring in consternation at their colleagues, unable to process what had happened, and what _would_ be happening to them.

Even the always professional Con and Fenton were chortling, allowing themselves to enjoy the spectacle. Only Frank retained his stoic game face.

"This isn't gonna kill them is it?" Con asked Frank.

"No, but it'll make their nights uncomfortable in the pant's department." Frank finally smirked. "Teach 'em to drug Joe. Give it another ten minutes, and I'll give Vanessa and Mark the green light."

-o0o-

"Nancy, wake up and talk to me, okay?"

"Okay."

"We're close to the end game. Remember, if you're cooperative I won't turn you over to the Red-Headed Man, but if you're not, there will be consequences, do you understand?"

"I…yes."

"Good. Go to the Bayport Library, right where you were before I told you to have a sleep."

"I don't know…when?"

"Right after Frank texted you his portion of the code."

"Okay."

 **…** **Nancy went into her pocket and pulled out the screen print of the final clue so she could take another look. She sat back thoughtfully in her chair. '** ** _Perhaps I'm barking up the wrong tree,'_** **she thought and pulled on her lip.**

 **She decided to go and enquire at the front desk, see if the library staff could give her some fresh ideas. Nancy looked at the workers and decided to interrupt the oldest on the assumption age equals experience. "Excuse me."**

 **The woman looked up. "Can I help you?"**

 **"** **I'm doing some research for a college paper on Greek mythology." She paused and rolled her eyes slightly. "I've been set a little challenge by my Professor to seek out some information on a symbol, but I'm not having much luck." Nancy lifted up the print out and offered it to the lady. "Would it be something you might have come across?" Nancy pointed at the design and drew the woman's attention to it.**

 **The woman peered at the picture for a time and smiled slightly. "Ah, now this does look familiar, but not as a piece of Greek mythology, although there is a vague relation." She lowered the paper and rolled her eyes, the same way Nancy had. "Your professor has been very naughty and sent you on a wild goose chase. A lot of planets, meteors and asteroids are named after Greek characters and I've seen emblems like these to denote asteroids."**

 **Nancy felt herself redden and go slightly hot. "Would you have any books that I can look at?"**

 **"** **Oh yes, we have a whole section, come on, I'll show you." …**

"Nancy, can you move on another five minutes? And hurry up I'm losing patience, and you don't want me to get the man to beat the last section of code out of you."

"Please don't."

"Hurry up then."

"Okay."

 **…** **Nancy laid a big book out on the table, a tome of massive proportions. She turned straight to the 'E' section and ran her finger down the names of the various asteroids to search for those named after Greek gods or goddesses.**

 **About a third of the way down the fourth page she found it - a downward curve over a double-sided arrow. It denoted an asteroid known as Epimetheus (number …**

"What did you say Nancy? Did you just say _'number'_?"

"Yes."

"Not 'letter' or 'digit'?"

"No…I….not this time no, this one's numbers."

"Nancy, _have you been lying to me this whole time?_ "

"No, I don't…leave me alone…Joe?"

 _"_ _Consider the time you bought for yourself all spent up!"_

Nancy felt her face rock to the side, but didn't know what she'd experienced was a hit.

 **…** **Nancy jumped out of her seat in the library. She looked around for Joe, but he wasn't there. Something had happened, something was terribly,** ** _terribly_** **wrong.**

 **"** **Shushhh!" the librarian said loudly, but Nancy, so tightly wound,** ** _couldn't_** **stop. She grew hotter and hotter, overheating.**

 **"** **What's going on?" she asked, and staggered against the bookcase behind her. "What?" She looked at the other people who stared as she slipped sideways and dropped down to one knee.**

 **She took hold of one of the tables and heaved herself up, coming face-to-face with a man sat there. Although she'd been aware of his presence at the desk next to hers, she'd not paid him any heed - a Red-Headed Man, athletic and tall, with scary, dead eyes. She knew him, didn't know why, but she did…and she feared him.**

 **He reared out of the seat, grabbed, and pulled her over the table to him.**

 **She screamed loud, and long, and couldn't stop …**

-o0o-

The five men came down off the high ground and approached the gates to _Hope Industries_. Frank accessed his cell; speed dialled for Vanessa, and pressed the phone to his ear. "Go," he instructed and re-pocketed the phone. "Good luck everyone."

"You too, Son…Joe." Fenton muttered back.

"James?" Con asked his son.

"Don't worry about me, Dad. I'm ready."

"Luck, Flash."

"Back at ya, Zarkof. Jimmy."

"Mr H."

Joe reached, gripped his brother's forearm and Frank grasped on for an instant.

They turned their full attention to the matter in hand, unclipped their gun holsters, lifted Glocks free and held them in heavy, anticipated silence. Joe breathed out slowly, tried to let the tension go.

 _The floodlights blinked off and plunged the outside complex into blackness._

Joe held his breath now.

The downing of the lights threw the security detail into confusion. Now, not only were the majority of them sick, but they had an apparent electrical fault on their hands. None had apparently noticed the five men loitering at the entrance.

 _The gate opened, it's well oiled components ensuring silence._

Frank and his team paced through into the parking lot. "Well done, Vanessa."

Joe looked at his brother. He could tell from Frank's body language he'd allowed the darkness he stored deep within to slink up. With palpable intensity, nothing would distract Frank from their mission of rescuing his girl tonight, only death.

The extinguished lights now made them indiscernible from the security detail in their dark clothes, and put them at such an advantage they strode a good distance across the lot before anyone reacted.

One of the guards weaved in James' direction to cut them off, probably figuring, as the shortest of the group, James would prove the easiest to take out. James, however, kicked the guy's ankles out from under him. He fell and stayed down. Easy prey, considering he'd been so sick earlier.

A big man emerged from within the building this time. "Can I help you?" he asked, trying to maintain the company's illusion of respectability…until he reached them and focused on what he faced.

"I'm Frank Hardy." Frank pinned him with a shadowed, dark glare and didn't break stride. "We've come for Nancy Drew, and you won't stop us, you're not good enough."

The man's mouth opened wide, and Joe went for him. "I suggest you get massively lost, Dude, unless you want to make hay? I'm happy if you want to? Do you want to?"

The man stuttered, tried to form words, but couldn't. Presumably he didn't know how to react to an enormously pissed off Frank Hardy, three heavily armed men and a guy spoiling for a fight, as big as himself but twice as fit.

Joe lashed out and took the man down with the butt of his gun. He intended to follow his brother's instruction of _'not to hesitate'_. Besides which, he felt satisfaction at doling out retribution for what had been done to Vanessa.

It seemed they _all_ recognized the serious and unpredictable nature of their situation. Fenton demonstrated this by booting the man James had dropped as he walked by. Two guards out of action were two less to worry about. Not all the security detail had been in the mood for Italian food tonight.

 _Frank's phone buzzed._

He retrieved it from his pocket, and read a message. "Good," he muttered, and dropped it back into his pocket.

They reached the complex's doors and strung themselves along them. Frank and Joe pushed through, with the others only a couple of steps behind. They found the entire row unlocked, probably because of Vanessa, Mark and their Dark-Net Army overriding the _Hope Industries_ security settings. Not only were the doors open, and the floodlights disabled, but the windows were opening and closing automatically, clicking and snapping as the locks flicked off and on, off and on. A poltergeist had taken up residence.

They stood in the entranceway and took a look at the large, open plan office area. They found the same banks of desks as Nancy earlier, with operators sitting in front of computers.

Although not taken aback at the size of the open-plan bullpen, the huge monitor with the image of Pandora looking down on them did. Underneath her image were four boxes, waiting for the code to be entered. Three portions had been keyed in with letters. Frank peaked a brow. Although Doctor Cox had buried the code in the labyrinth of his mind, he still knew the code on the screen had been keyed in incorrectly. He didn't know what they'd done to his adored Nancy to get the _'code'_ out of her, but they'd failed. The new Posse hadn't realized they'd been duped, and it filled him with hope.

 _The lights blinked out, the windows still banged._

The team raised their guns high defensively, and made their way further into the room.

 _The lights came back up, but not fully and flickered - Pandora's image pixilated._

From the confused way the workers in the office reacted, Vanessa and her Dark-Net Army needed to be congratulated - this wasn't the work of the new Posse or any sort of external tech support.

The operators talked excitedly to each other bemused, their attentions pulled away from their desk screens and to the strange happenings in the office. Some heads turned toward the doors, realising they had armed strangers in their midst.

 _The lights came up fully again, Pandora's image stabilised, and the windows stilled._

Fenton raised his gun in the air, and fired. Everyone in the room jumped clear out of their skins, spun and rose urgently from their chairs. "No one move!" Fenton warned in a clear voice, and walked further inside. "And I mean _no one._ " Everyone froze, startled out of their wits.

"Everyone be cool, and no one gets hurt." Joe said, supporting his father. He panned his gun levelly about from person-to-person, trying not to respond to the number of Hoppy the Hamster t-shirts the operators wore.

Con moved in the opposite direction, to plug the gap Fenton had left.

The team aimed to cut everyone off from the main exits. They were aware of movement in the parking area behind them, of people fleeing and cars leaving - escaping through alternative exits from the upper floor. They didn't want it to happen here.

 _A sudden movement on the stairwell._

James shifted his stance and fired. Someone screamed as a metal object clattered down the stairs, rebounded off the wall and skittered into the main room - a handgun, bigger than the Glocks the team used. A man, about halfway down the steps, clutched his hand and glared reproachfully at the intruders. Although the man grasped his palm, no blood could be seen. It seemed James had shot the gun straight from his fingers.

Con stared at his son in amazement.

James snapped at the man, "He said _not to move_ , buddy. That included aiming guns!" James bypassed Fenton, and made his way to the other end of the office until he faced the man on the stairs. He indicated with an index finger for the man to come down, and pointed to where James wanted him to stand. Then he kicked the man's weapon far under the stairwell, out of temptation's way. "You move again, I'll kneecap you."

Frank spoke up loudly, "We've come for Nancy Drew." He turned his dark glare on the man sat closest to him and strode over. "Tell me where she is." Frank lowered his weapon. "Speak. NOW!"

The man stared agog at Frank, and his mouth flapped. "She's…she's…uh—"

 _Nancy started to scream._

Frank's attention snapped to the right, to the upper level. He moved quickly, and tapped Joe's arm as he passed. "Clear everyone out," he told the other three. "You know what to do. If anyone gives you trouble, as James said, kneecap them." He pointed exaggeratedly at a security camera, aimed his thumb, and ran down the length of the room to the staircase with Joe sprinting behind him. The sound of Nancy's screams didn't stop or lessen in volume.

 _"_ _You sicken me!"_ They heard Fenton shout at the people being herded to the back of the room. _"How can you sit there typing, knowing that girl's up there?"_

Frank and Joe hit the landing and began to open doors. As expected, they found corridors beyond with other doors leading off. They discounted the first corridor, as when Frank stuck his head in the screams receded slightly. He left it and moved to the next, while Joe took the third door.

Joe opened up. He'd found the right corridor, obvious as Nancy's yells became shriller. "HERE!" He shot through.

They moved quickly along the corridor, opening doors until Joe found the right room. He stuck his head in and took an information gathering look.

He saw Nancy in the middle of the room, strapped to a gurney, screaming in terror. Her back arched in the throes of what appeared to be an out-of-control convulsive fit. The woman who'd spiked Frank's drink stood to the side, going through a red medical bag at a table. Two other men were there, on the other side of the room, their startled faces turned in Joe's direction.

The woman seemed unaware of the drama being played out downstairs, so Joe took her by surprise. He ran in and intercepted to pull her away from the bag. He threw her up against the sink.

Frank followed, went straight to Nancy and laid a possessive hand on her. He too saw the men. " _Get the HELL out!_ " He commanded, and aimed his gun. They ran. Frank holstered his Glock and began to try to calm Nancy down.

Joe shook the woman hotly. "What did you do to her?"

The woman stared up at him dumbfounded. "You again? Joe Hardy, always in the way!" Her eyes fell on Frank. "My associate's searching for you, the best you can do is get out of here because he'll be back soon. Leave her, she's doesn't care about you anymore. Never will."

"Shut your mouth, you evil bitch!" Joe spat, pulled her forward and pushed her into the sink again.

Frank leaned over Nancy. "Nan! NAN! Hey, sweetheart, calm down we're here." He paused, and spun at the woman. "What did you do to her face?"

"I didn't do anything, but my friend will do _plenty_ to you, and much worse."


	27. Chapter 27

**Just wanted to thank everyone for their lovely reviews. I really do love receiving them, it really makes it all worthwhile to know that I'm entertaining people. I also now know that there are people reading on the quiet which is so cool!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 27**

" _Shut up_!" Frank growled at the woman, tired of hearing her threats and attempts at intimidation.

He returned his attention to Nancy, trying to get through to her, to break through her distress. No amount of stroking or cajoling worked, nothing made a difference. He looked frantically about for clues and his eyes settled on the red bag on the table, the vials and syringes abandoned next to it. He checked out Nancy's arm and found the track lines from the injections she'd endured. He inexplicably touched his own arm, shook his head and asked the woman, "What did you give her?

"My friend will have his fun with you, Frank Hardy."

Joe grunted in frustration.

Fenton appeared in the doorway and ran to Nancy to unbuckle the straps. Once free, he slid her from the gurney and down to the floor. He pulled her tightly in, and drew her face into his shoulder to stifle her yells. "For pity's sake! Her screams, I thought…I don't know what I thought...Frank?"

"They've injected her with something and now I remember they did the same to me in my apartment. They tried to put me in a trance, but it wouldn't work, so they injected me instead. They said it would be safe—" He hit his forehead and then pointed at the woman. "SHE said it would be safe. I'm so STUPID!"

Fenton's glare fell on the woman as she regarded Frank vindictively, enjoying the spectacle of his son's struggle, a big smile on her face. Fenton surrendered his hold on Nancy and began to rise out of his crouch, his hands rolled into fists, his body tight with unreleased tension.

The woman's attention switched from Frank to Fenton. She dropped the smugness and moved to get behind Joe, having the good grace to be concerned at his aggressive body language.

Fenton gritted his teeth and growled slowly, "Get her out of here, Joe, or I'll do something I won't regret, but she will."

"My pleasure." Joe dragged the woman to the gurney by the collar, turned and slid her onto the bed. She kicked out and shouted obscenities, trying to roll off. Joe used his muscle weight to hold her and forced each wrist into the straps. "How do you like them apples, Lady?" He kicked the brake off, shoved the gurney out of the room and into the corridor.

Fenton dropped and pulled Nancy to him again, as Joe shut the door to join Frank at the table.

"What you thinking, Dude?"

Frank didn't answer, he picked up one of the empty vials to read the label. It meant nothing to him, but he knew someone who would be able to help. He got his phone out and pressed for a number.

"Can you put me through to Emily Cox? It's an emergency, life and death…Frank Hardy." He looked at Nancy worriedly while he waited to be connected through the hospital switchboard. "Hello?...Thank God. Emily…It's Nancy you can hear... Can you tell me what this is please?—" He recited off the name of the drug.

Joe and Fenton waited as he listened, nodding along. "I don't know how much, but there's three empty bottles…What can I do? Anything?" He listened and turned quickly to the red bag to haul through its contents again. He pulled out several vials and checked their labels until his search bore fruit. "Found it! Thanks Emily...No…NO…I mean it, I'm not putting you in that position, we'll handle it." He rang off and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Do you either of you know how to administer injections?"

"No, but I'll give it a go." Fenton said.

"You're not filling me with confidence," Joe said.

"I promised Carson I'd look after his daughter, soooo—" Fenton shrugged his shoulders.

Frank continued to rummage. He hunted through the contents of the bag until he found a medically sealed, disposable syringe; a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some swabs. He handed them to Joe, along with a pair of gloves, and knelt down on the other side of Nancy to pull her off his Dad. He borrowed his father's trick by pressing her face into his shoulder so they could hear while he explained. "The drug they used has put her into chemically induced hypnosis. Emily said—" He stopped as Nancy kicked.

Joe battled with her legs, "Man, she's strong!" he complained before tucking them firmly to his side under a stocky arm.

Frank continued, "Emily said they've overdosed her, it's messing with her head, causing delusions. What's going on in her mind's real to her. God knows what's happening in there." He indicated to the vial with his eyes. "It's the antidote. It'll calm her down, stop the delusions."

Fenton squeezed alcohol onto his hands and vigorously rubbed. "I wish I knew how to do this." He pulled on the gloves. "How do I know I'm giving her enough, or too much?"

"Emily said we should give her one dose which's a whole bottle. We've got to try, Dad. She won't come out the other side sane at this rate."

Fenton grimaced, "I have _every_ intention of trying. Doing it for Carson." He separated the syringe from its wrapper, and held up the tiny bottle. He considered it for a moment before grabbing an alcohol wipe to rub it over the rubber seal on the lid. He shoved the needle into the liquid, and drew it down into the barrel. He slid it free, and aimed it at Nancy's arm.

"WAIT!" Joe interceded. "You forgot - air bubbles! Hold the needle up." Fenton did that and Joe quickly flicked his nail against the barrel. "Now push on the plunger so a bit of liquid comes out the top."

"How did you know that?" Fenton asked, doing as advised.

"Too much TV, it's educational. Wipe the inside of her arm with one of those wipey things, where you're going jab her."

"Here?"

"Yep."

Fenton did as instructed, and then cast Joe an enquiring look.

"Why the hesitation? Stick her with it - she's giving me a headache."

Fenton attempted to _'stick her with it'_ but she jerked around so much he didn't have a cat in hell's chance. "Frank, can't you hold her still?"

"I'll try."

"Joe, sit on her legs, put your hand under her elbow and lever her wrist down so her arm's straight and can't move so much."

"'kay."

With her under control, Fenton leaned close and used the previous track-line as a crude map to her vein. He found it surprisingly easy and pumped the liquid in quickly. Once finished he retracted the needle and threw it across the room.

Immediately, Nancy's countenance altered. She relaxed, the screams stopped and she quit fighting. Joe climbed off.

Frank eased his strong hold, but kept her cradled gently against his chest. He expected her to sleep, but her left arm rose to slide around his shoulders and her body and legs curled around his torso. Her fingers contracted against the back of his neck and her other arm followed the waist band of his jacket and Kevlar vest to his back, where she gripped on tightly. Her face turned to look up at him. "Hey," Frank said, uncertain and carefully passive.

"You came for me."

"Did you think we wouldn't?"

She smiled at him. "I remember." Her hand came off his neck to cup his cheek. "Do you?"

"I miss you."

"Me too."

And then they were kissing.

Scarlet faced, Fenton got up off the floor quickly. "Right, hmm."

"I guess mission statement one's sorted." Joe said. He spun on his heels and also rose to walk away.

-o0o-

Vanessa listened to Frank on the phone from the interior of the panic room. "Message understood." She disconnected their call and dropped the cell onto the desk. "Show time," she said to Mrs Holliday. She switched her full attention to her PC and the keyboard to give her Dark-Net Army comrades permission to proceed. Her fingers typed, flying on the keyboard at a rapid rate, while she directed Mark and her new friends on their tasks.

The first port of call - to override and disable the _Hope Industries'_ security measures, to take control and get those front gates open. Only a few seconds later, Mark reported the team were successfully through and into the compound. He told her to hold onto her bowler hat as he live streamed the CCTV security footage in and about the complex.

Vanessa sat back and looked up at the large screen on the wall. As promised, there came a strobe-like flutter, followed by several live views uploading in quick succession.

Mrs Holliday rose in excitement.

 _"_ _Do you have it?"_ Mark asked.

 _"_ _Yes, you're a star!"_ Vanessa typed.

 _"_ _We're seeing the footage too. I'm tightening down security to prevent them taking back control. BRB."_

 _"_ _OK."_ She picked up her phone and thumbed a message to Frank to let him know they were all watching proceedings. She put her cell down and sat with her arms crossed to observe.

She and Mrs Holliday watched their friends march across the compound and James, followed by Joe, quickly taking care of two of the guards, and Fenton booting the first guy just to make sure.

"I wouldn't want to come up on Joe in a dark alley," Mrs Holliday said.

Vanessa giggled. "He doesn't mess around." Her attention returned to her PC as Mark's made a further report.

 _"_ _The Dark-Net Army have got Frank and the team access to the building; we're trying to take the Posse offline but it's difficult. They've got tech support off-site. They're battling with us."_

 _"_ _Can we distract them somehow? Pull the operators inside the building off-track so they're not firing on all cylinders? Weaken them?"_

 _"_ _We're about to mess with the lights, though I think they'll be distracted by Frank and the lads in a second. Joe's beefed up over the years, he wasn't as big before. He's a man now."_

 _"_ _He sure turns heads."_

 _"_ _Is Frank still with…Cassie? Kiwi can't quite remember her name."_

 _"_ _Callie."_ Vanessa corrected. _"They've not been together for ages. She got married."_

 _"_ _Well, that would put the kibosh on any relationship."_

 _"_ _They didn't break up because of_ _that_ _, ya numbskull."_

 _"_ _LOL - charming!"_

 _Vanessa smiled. "They ran out of steam. He's with Nancy. Or we're hoping he will be at the end of this."_

 _"_ _BRB. Need to do something."_ Mark said.

Vanessa could see what he and the Dark-Net Army were doing. Inside the building the lights flickered, as well as the large, wall-mounted monitor which she could make out contained the image of Pandora. "Look, Mrs Holliday. The code's almost complete, but it's wrong. I can't remember the cipher, but it should be numbers. I know from the first time Nancy destroyed her."

"Nancy's tougher than they think she is. Good for her."

Vanessa stood and watched Fenton discharge his weapon in the air and move across the office. The workers froze as Con stepped sideways, the only other person to be on the move…but then a figure on the stairwell also shifted. Mrs Holliday grabbed Vanessa's arm - a man brandishing a gun! Or at least until his arm jerked violently outward and the weapon flew. "What happened?"

"Young James shot the gun from his hand."

"Go Jimmy!"

Rebel made a scary noise in the back of his throat - a thundering growl that made the women shiver. His hackles rose and he sloped to position himself in the doorway. Protectively, he stared into the room beyond.

"We should lock the door." Mrs Holliday said quietly.

"What's setting him off?"

"Him!" Mrs Holliday's attention had diverted to the monitors on the other side of the room, the VDUs showing the inside and outside of the hotel.

Vanessa focused. She saw what Mrs Holliday saw, and what Rebel sensed. A man hunkered low outside peering through the front window. "The Red-Headed Man." Her hands strayed to her neck and caressed the bruises. "He's found us."


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**

Mrs Holliday stepped closer to the screen to get a better view of the Red-Headed Man moving towards the front door in his search for a way into the hotel. "That the person who hurt you?"

"Yes." Vanessa rubbed her bandaging. "The one who took Nancy. Shall we sick Rebel on him?"

Mrs Holliday moved quickly to the door. "Why risk losing our lovely boy?" She took Rebel's collar in one hand and slid the door across with the other. "That'll thwart his plans." She gave the lock button a smack before treating Rebel to a kiss on the head. "Good boy! Quite the early warning system Con's got in you."

Rebel's tail wagged for a second and then stilled. He continued to make the same course, gravelly growl, but quieter than before.

Vanessa grimaced and put a brave face on it. "Well, he's not thwarting _me_ again," she said gamely. "It doesn't look like Rebel will let him either."

Rebel paced slowly to and fro, his eyes trained on the door. Although deaf, his other senses worked fine, were heightened if anything.

"My dear, don't you worry. He won't find us, and even if he does he won't get in - the door's reinforced. If by some miracle he _does_ get in—" Mrs Holliday opened a drawer in the desk and pointed to a gun lying there, "I'll give it with both barrels. I've done it before, and if I'm forced, I'll do it again." She took the weapon and placed it determinedly between their keyboards with a satisfying thud.

"Right, okay. In that case, can you keep an eye on him, while I carry on with this?" Vanessa sat down again at her PC. "I guess, if nothing else, he's not there to interfere with what the guys are doing." She slid the gun to one side to make room.

"That's the spirit."

Vanessa looked up at the CCTV footage and watched Con and James as they lined the staff up under the security camera, the same camera Frank had pointed to and raised his thumb at earlier.

She activated the face recognition program, and expanded the biometric sensor. Con positioned the first person underneath and made her look at the camera. Vanessa set the software to _'automatic'_ and let it loose - snapping individual shots as new faces were introduced within the grid. The images were stored on a portable data storage device, with the intention of passing the information to the police later to use in conjunction with their own compatible software.

Vanessa thought it wise to update Mark on their current situation. _"The psychopath's here."_

 _"_ _Bugger! In the room with you?"_

 _"_ _He's not in here, but he's trying to get into the hotel we're holed up in. Don't worry, we're sealed inside a panic room, he won't be able to find us."_

 _"_ _Sodding heck…a panic room? Only in 'Merica."_

 _She laughed. "I guess if he's here, he's no danger to the others."_ Vanessa realized she'd lost touch of where the three Hardy men were, and stood to get a closer view. She caught a movement in one of the upper rooms. They were huddled on the floor by a sink, but a table and Joe's back obscured the view. "What are they up to?" she wondered aloud and returned to typing. _"Am I right Pandora isn't connected to the internet…the Pandora on the big screen I mean?"_

 _"_ _I just asked that question myself. One of the Dark-Net Army people said after Nancy killed Pandora the last time, the destruction protocol didn't disappear with her, it remained in place. If they upload her she'll peg it, so they daren't do it."_

 _"_ _Peg it?"_

 _"_ _Die, she'll be destroyed."_

 _"_ _Thought so. Could we upload her onto the net from here to kill her that way?"_

 _"_ _I had the same thought, but the PC they used doesn't have the capability. It's a standalone unit and we can't get at it. The only way to destroy Pandora is directly through the PC in the office complex. The team will have to do it."_

 _"_ _My ideal plan had been to destroy her from here and pull the boys out quickly."_ Disappointed, Vanessa sat back and clicked her tongue. Another bad thought hit, so she returned her fingers to the keyboard. _"If the Posse successfully get Pandora to work and_ _then_ _upload her onto the net, will she have the capability to destroy Professor Hope's kill code?"_

 _"_ _Yep."_

 _"_ _Disappointing. The team's only choice is to stay in that case…unless they take the entire unit with them—"_ she sat back thoughtfully. "A-ha!" she said aloud.

Mrs Holliday's voice cut through, "The Red-Headed Man's in the house, in the dining room."

Vanessa ended her conversation with Mark and joined Mrs Holliday at the monitors.

The Red-Headed man had apparently come to the conclusion he'd entered an empty house, so now wandered freely and arrogantly about.

Vanessa groaned. She'd noticed something he, no doubt, would soon see - the map and blueprints laid out on the table. None of the team had thought to clear them away.

The Red-Headed Man turned to them and processed, ran out the door and into the hallway. They lost sight of him for a moment, but then her reappeared outside and quickly headed down the driveway.

"Oh dear." Mrs Holliday said. "The cat's out the bag."

"I'm phoning Frank to warn them." Vanessa lifted her phone, hit the call button and waited. It went to voicemail _. "Hey Frank. The psychopath got into the hotel. We're safe, but he's figured out you're there and is probably heading back to you. Grab the PC Pandora's loaded onto and bring it back here. We can't destroy her remotely. Sorry it's not better news. Be on your guard!"_

"Vanessa, look at them." Mrs Holliday whispered, with her hand pressed to her heart.

Vanessa looked up to see Frank and Nancy on the floor coiled around one another kissing, Frank's fingers buried deeply in her hair. Fenton and Joe were looking everywhere but at them. "Aw. No wonder he's not interested in his phone."

 _"_ _Go on, Frank, mate!"_ Mark had typed.

"I'm so proud of them for saving her." Mrs Holliday said.

"I'll call Joe instead." Vanessa thumbed the screen and then looked in consternation at Mrs Holliday. "Straight to voicemail." Her hand returned to scrolling. "Dad's." She watched Con on the screen chase the last of the people off the premises before he stopped to talk to James. He didn't react to his phone which also went to voicemail. "Something's wrong."

"Could it be the building itself blocking the signal?" Mrs Holliday asked. "You've only phoned Frank so far while he's outside."

"Erm," Vanessa sat down at her computer and banged out a message to Mark. _"I've got zero phone contact to the boys."_

 _"_ _I've just been told the phone signal's being blocked. Although the staff are out of the complex, their tech support are fighting us hard and gaining the upper hand. The new Posse basically have a dark-army of their own and we're struggling to take them down. We've lost the element of surprise. It's a miracle we've kept control of the CCTV. They're trying to take it off us, but they don't seem to be able to. It's lucky I put those security measures in place to stop them."_

 _"_ _The psychopath has left. He's worked out they're at Hope Industries. I need to warn them."_

 _"_ _Blimey!"_

 _"_ _Is there any way we can get the signal back up…could I text them?"_

 _"_ _Won't work, that signal's jammed too. We'll make it our top priority but it won't be easy. They've disabled the satellite link. It's caused a localized outage so all phones in the immediate vicinity will be down. Not landlines of course."_

 _"_ _And no phones at Hope Industries are landlines?"_

 _"_ _Correct."_

 _"_ _Blast! Not that it would be any help, we don't have a landline at the hotel either. Frank had it disconnected."_ She looked up at the security footage and saw the Hardys and Nancy preparing to exit the room. She knew she would lose sight of them in the corridor beyond. "This isn't good," she said to Mrs Holliday. "If something happens now, they're blind to it. I'm their eyes and ears."

-o0o-

The three Hardy men and Nancy prepared to leave the room.

Frank still retained a tight arm about Nancy's waist in case she became unsteady, but she seemed surprisingly strong. "I'm all right," she reassured him, and patted his chest. "I don't remember a thing." She turned and looked thoughtfully at Joe. "Were you here? Did they bring you here?"

"Weird question, no, been with these guys. Why do you ask?"

"I have the strong feeling you've been close by."

"Nan, your face looks horrific…your eye!"

Her hand roved to the damaged self-consciously. "I saw it. It'll heal. I look like a horror show. You sure you weren't here?"

"Of course I'm sure! You okay?"

"Yes. Confused."

"Did _he_ do that to your face?"

She shrugged and her eyes left his for an instant. "I threw a lamp and slapped him."

Fenton visibly bristled behind her. "Before or after he had you by the throat? He waggled a finger at her neck. "Self-defence, I saw the picture."

"They sent you a picture?" She frowned. "Yes, I remember them taking it now. I'm sorry you all saw it."

"You and Van need to talk," Joe said.

"Why?"

"He hurt her too. She and James were so close to pulling you off the ambulance and Van paid the price."

"No!" Tears welled up. Joe reached out, but she side-stepped his hand. "Don't," she said quietly. "She okay?"

"She will be."

Frank put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back to him. "I don't care what your face looks like, you look beautiful, and so does Vanessa."

Fenton watched Nancy on the verge of crumbling, humiliated. They needed to get off the subject quick so he jumped in, "Let's focus." He nudged Frank, "What's next, Boss?"

"Killing Pandora," Frank answered. "Hopefully for good this time and remove the threat of the Authority. Then we're gonna catch ourselves a psychopath and make him pay for hurting our girls."

Nancy looked from Frank to Fenton confused. "Boss? Wait - did you put Frank in charge?"

"Yes."

"Good Lord. Who or what's the Authority?"

"They probably don't exist," Frank said.

"What do you mean?"

"Nan, there's so much you don't know. Trust us, we need to kill Pandora as the next priority. I'll explain the rest when we're in a less precarious position."

Nancy didn't ask for further clarification, although her eyes moved in the same tick-tick motion Frank's did as he worked a problem through. Then she suddenly smirked. "Can I just say, before we leave…I've never seen you guys sexier then at this moment? Black's a great look on you."

Fenton guffawed, and Joe opened the door and came face-to-face with the woman strapped to the gurney.

She glared coldly. "Let me off this thing."

"Do you think we're insane? Chief of Police Ezra Collig will release you later."

"Why's it always you Joe Hardy? Why's it always you IN THE WAY!?"

"You, Lady, are a loony tune," Joe retorted.

"No fun, is it?" Nancy put her hands on the gurney, but then stopped and regarded the woman thoughtfully before moving to the woman's legs. She grabbed the woman and in a smooth movement, had one of her ankle boots off.

"Give it back, bitch!" the woman shouted.

"Give it a rest." Nancy turned the boot upside down and tested it against the bottom of her own foot. "Too small." She threw it to one side, disgusted. Then she did what she intended on doing originally and gave the gurney a shove to send it careening to the other end of the corridor as the woman screamed at her.

Frank took Nancy's hand and they walked to the outside door and pushed through. Like Nancy earlier, he found himself face-to-face with Pandora. He stepped forward, gripped the guardrail and looked down at the lower floor.

Con and James were staring back at him. "Tell me you got Nancy?" Con asked.

Nancy came forward, looked over and smiled.

"There you are!" James took a few steps forward until directly beneath and beamed back.

"It's my favorite Bayport cops!" she said. "And looking just as sexy!" She started for the stairs, Fenton dogging her footsteps.

Con and James moved to meet them as they reached the bottom. Nancy flung herself at Con who caught her and lifted her high into a hug before he set her down.

She turned and grabbed James.

"Let me see?" James asked and held her away so he could look at the damage to her face. "I tried to get to you, but they were quicker. I feel real bad about it. It looks sore."

"It is, but it'll heal," she assured him. "I know you did your best and you're here _now_. My dark knights!"

Fenton grinned stupidly and slid his arm protectively around her shoulders.

Joe slapped Frank's upper arm and began to move down the steps to join them with his brother close behind, but then Frank faltered after a few treads. _'Vanessa's phone!'_ he realized and headed back.

-o0o-

"No-no-NO! Don't do it, Frank!" Vanessa shouted at the screen as she and Mrs Holliday watched him trip up the steps to go back through the door.

 _"_ _My dear brother Rob's having kittens here, what's Frank doing?"_ Mark asked.

 _"_ _I have no idea."_


	29. Chapter 29

**Thank you everyone for the fantastic feedback, it's always welcome and makes my day. Hope you enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 29**

"No-no-NO! Don't do it, Frank!" Vanessa pleaded, her fingers went over her mouth and her head shook as he turned and ran back up the stairs. He pulled the door open, disappearing into the corridor beyond. None of the other four men seemed to notice he left, their attentions focused on Nancy.

 _"Rob's having kittens here. What's Frank doing?"_ Mark asked, referring to his brother, Rob, with him in England, along with Kiwi Dave.

 _"No idea."_ Vanessa stood and turned to Mrs Holliday. "Can you spot the Red-Headed Man anywhere? Why's Frank gone back? More to the point, why on his own?"

"Over confidence?"

Their eyes switched between the different views as they tried to find the psychopath, but they came up empty. There were too many blind spots and shadows. If The Red-Headed man wanted to do so, he could hide in plain sight, and Vanessa suspected he'd be clever enough.

"Maybe Young Frank's gone to hunt for Nancy's shoes?" Mrs Holliday suggested.

"Seems a dumb-ass move to me. Excuse the language."

"Never mind." Mrs Holliday waggled a finger, "It's handsome ass, but sometimes a stupid ass none-the-less!"

Vanessa giggled, her sore throat making it sound guttural which in turn made Mrs Holliday smile.

Frank reappeared in the room where Nancy had been a prisoner. He moved to the red medical bag, flipped open the lid and rummaged through it.

Vanessa sighed, patting over her heart. "Searching for my phone I think. Maybe he'll notice the cells aren't working."

Frank eventually found the phone, drew it out, pressed the home button and paused for a moment in thought. He reached for his red phone to compare the screens, then looked about until he found a security camera and stepped under it. Offering the phones up, he vehemently shook his head.

"He's noticed."

Mrs Holliday concentrated on another of the complex's CCTV screens. "There's no other way you can talk with them? They've a serious problem coming their way." She turned to Vanessa and pointed.

"What do you mean—" her face opened up in horror. "I won't need to tell them anything, they're about to find out for themselves! What are we gonna do?" She dropped into her seat again, "My God—" and returned to her keyboard, _"Mark—"_

 _"I effin' see it!"_

-o0o-

Frank searched all through the bag before coming upon the phone. It had slipped down into one of the inside pockets which was why no one else discovered it. He turned the screen on and found it still charged, not even close to being out of juice, but frowned at the screen in confusion _'No Service'_.

He jammed his hand in his inside pocket and pulled his own phone out. He realised his had the same problem. _"Ohhh shit!"_ The magnitude of their phones being out of action, and Vanessa being out of communication, hit him. He looked around, spotted a camera in the corner and stepped up to it. He lifted the cells and shook his head, trusting Vanessa and Mark to see and understand his message. He put the phones in his pocket and headed for the door. As his hand rested on the handle, he paused in thought.

He had assumed things were going well because he'd not heard from Vanessa, but now…for all he knew, the psychopath could be lingering and waiting to jump him outside the door. Why had he come into the room alone? He reached and lifted his gun from its holster, readying it. He opened the door a crack to peer out. He didn't see anyone directly outside, so he stuck his head out further and looked quickly up and down. He found the corridor empty of anyone other than the woman shouting her usual threats. Frank quickly strode to the end of the corridor and pushed through onto the walkway, just as hell came a-callin'.

The row of floor to ceiling panes of glass in the front doors shattered one after another with an ear bending crash, sounding like a mortar bomb detonation. The entire structure water-falled, shards flying everywhere and bullets blasting into the room. Frank's mouth dropped open. Instinctively, he raised his gun and rested his right hand on top of his left. Simultaneously, he looked to see what happened to the other members of the team, and his girlfriend.

He watched the action play out in agonizing, slow-motion.

They turned to the noise, except for Fenton who reacted quickly, far quicker than the others. He threw himself sideways, took Nancy with him, causing them to slide over the nearest table and drop down the other side. Presumably, he pulled her into the relative safety of the hollow beneath a table, on the next bank of desks.

Joe watched his dad's move and dived in the same direction but a few desks further up the row. He also disappeared out of Frank's line-of-sight.

James crumpled, collapsed onto his back, and Con ran solidly toward him with absolutely no intention of making himself safe.

Suddenly, everything sped up again as Frank's brain caught up and accepted what was happening.

Frank aimed his Glock pistol at the door in the direction from where he thought the shots were coming. _"Diversion needed for Con and Jimmy!"_ he bellowed and started blasting. With any luck, he'd hit something other than fresh air.

Fenton's arm appeared above the desk, Joe's a millisecond later and both began firing. Although in danger of hitting his father, Joe didn't stop, he just shifted his arm slightly.

It worked. Con safely reached James and grabbed fistfuls of his jacket. James grasped onto his Dad's arms, and Con kept on going without slowing down. He used the highly polished floor as a blowing alley, with his son as the ball. After a few steps, Con dropped, pulled James tightly to him and rolled them under the walkway, out of Frank's sight. They left behind them a smear of blood.

 _"They're out of danger, but James is hit!"_

Fenton continued firing along with Frank, but Joe snatched his arm back. His face came up slightly and his eyes darted from one side of the room to the other before they travelled up and spotted Frank up-top. He registered intense surprise, his expression one of, _'Watcha doin' up there?'_

Frank peaked a brow and shrugged. _'Don't ask!'_ He dropped the spent bullet magazine from his Glock onto the floor and extracted a fresh one from his belt. He slammed it home, and blasted at the door.

In the time Frank reloaded, Joe had repositioned towards the back of the room and rejoined the gun play. In an obviously advantageous position, his body language indicated he could see real targets outside, his gun hand panning from one chosen target to the next. At least now he wasn't in danger of hitting his own dad. Joe looked across at Frank, and, for a moment, they mentally connected again before Joe set his jaw and they both returned to the business at hand.

With his weapon again running on empty, Frank discarded the magazine and rammed home another. He jacked a slug into the chamber, paced forward a couple of steps, and repeat fired in the same direction as Joe. Regrettably, his movement must have put him in range, or betrayed his location, as he found himself suddenly thrust violently backward and slammed the ground hard. He stared at the ceiling high above, his gun gone, his left arm on fire up near his shoulder.

 _"FRANK!"_ Joe yelled.

Frank began to gasp for air as a solid wall of hurt cascaded down and through his body. He scrunched his eyes tight shut, bought his knees up and forced himself not to cry out. His good arm punched the ground in a vain attempt to distract his brain and deaden down the searing pain.

 _"Frank's down!"_

 _"How? Where is he? I don't see him."_

 _"Up the stairs…the walkway."_

Through sheer willpower, Frank bought himself under control again and lifted his upper body. He eased his jacket to one side to inspect the injury, saw blood running freely and varnishing the inside of his sleeve. The limb hung uselessly, he couldn't lift it - it even hurt to clench his hand. Seeing the blood made him giddy. He decided not to investigate further, so he pulled his jacket back over and lay down. "Huh." He had an even greater respect for his brother, now he knew how much being shot hurt.

 _"FRANK?"_

He had made consideration for being attacked by a psychopath, thinking, with his martial arts black belt and a Glock, he would be able to take the Red-Headed Man down - especially as the guy only seemed interested in hurting women. Unfortunately, Frank also assumed while they needed the code, no real harm would come to him at the hands of the wider Posse that they would have been ordered not to fire on him. He'd been _monumentally_ wrong.

He watched helplessly as a line of bullets drilled along the wall near where he lay, taking out chunks of drywall and thudding across one of the doors.

 _"They're going for him again—"_

 _"Try to distract them, pull their attention away!"_

Another line of holes appeared on a downward arc, too close for comfort. Then they hit a metal air-conditioning unit and slugs zinged off, biting into the tiled floor and tearing apart several squares. Razor sharp shards of ceramic spit over Frank, gouging a furrow into the back of his hand as his arm came up to protect his face. Weirdly, that _did_ make him yelp in pain.

 _"I can't help,"_ Con shouted. _"I'm more likely to hit you, Fen!...No…not an option…I'm NOT leaving you, James…NO!"_

The Posse were trying to find Frank again. Another chain of holes peppered the wall, quickly joined by another round of staccato fire. It seemed the gunmen were in competition to try and get him, or to re-decorate the drywall. _'Why aren't I moving? Am I glued to the floor in my own blood? Why are they doing this? It makes no sense…why damage the goods?'_

 _"Dad, nothing's working!"_

Fenton bellowed frantically. _"FRANK! Move yourself…MOVE DAMN IT!"_

His father's panicked order sobered Frank's mind. Lucidity returned, galvanized him to act. He growled and used his legs and his good arm to scramble away. As he went into motion, hot ammo again ricocheted off the aircon unit, splicing the tiles and shattering them, just missing his retreating legs. If he hadn't shifted, he'd have been dead for sure. His clumsy clamber got him up to the guardrail, and propped up in a safer position. Exhausted, he rested for a second, and peered around for his gun but couldn't see it, it must have gone over into the bullpen below.

 _Joe, Nancy and Fenton shouted back and forth in the background unintelligibly._

Frank barred his teeth and leaned his head back as his world surged. The floor and walls became molten as bile shot up his throat, and burned as he swallowed and it retreated. Unable to stop, he zoned out, but kicked back to the surface at the sound of Joe's freaked, indecipherable hollers and Fenton's authoritarian, _"FRANK?"_ He lifted his head with a start. The sudden movement made him groan.

While out of it, the gunplay had ceased. The Posse must have decided to regroup, now they couldn't get at any of them.

"FRANK?"

"I'm here." He looked at the miraculously undamaged security camera above him, and raised a shaky thumb to Vanessa, Mrs Holliday and Mark...and the Dark-Net Army.

"Joe thinks you've been hit. Have you?"

"Yu-huh."

"Badly?"

"Nah."

"You're a bad liar. Did you get yourself out of the way?"

"Yeah."

James made a low noise from below, his vocalising coming from deep inside, a guttural rasp. An alien sound Frank had never heard anyone make. Con's low voice talked softly, supportively.

"Jimmy...Pal? Con?" Frank enquired. "Jimmy, I'm sorry."

"Bud, I'm fine," James answered breathlessly, words delivered in a higher pitch, from the top of his voice box. "Give me five."

"You're as bad a liar as Frank," Fenton said.

"They took his leg out." Con sounded pissed but purposeful. "I'm putting a tourniquet round it." There followed a creak of leather and the twang of metal, presumably a belt. James grunted in pain. Con apologised and there followed a soft scuffle. "James? Son?" The disturbing, low-level noise had ceased, then the sound of the belt again. "Gotta stop this bleed…give him all the fives you like, Frank, but he's not gonna be of use to us…Blast! My hand keeps slipping."

"I'm not gonna be of help either! Crap, I'm not." Frank breaths had grown ragged and hard.

"Frank?" Nancy's single word question full of fear, and meaning.

"Sorry, Nan, I'm sorry. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Son."

"Dad?"

"Take a breath, centre your mind, concentrate, be calm. More than anything be calm. Panicking won't help. Don't let the shock take hold."

Frank did as ordered. He breathed in through his nose, contained the oxygen in his lungs for a count of ten and let it slowly out through his mouth. _'I'm so cold!'_ His whole body juddered, but at least his breathing felt controlled. "I'm fine."

"I'm coming up to you," Joe said.

"NO! Bro, stay there, STAY THERE, yeah? It'd be suicide."

There followed a long pause as Joe evidently battled with his conscience, but eventually, "okay, I don't like it, but okay. What's the plan, Frank? Anything?"

"Mmm…concentrating, Bro." He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, trying to think but finding it impossible. He grunted in frustration. His head buzzed, he started to lose himself, slipping. He watched his hand, fascinated, as it floated away from him and down to the tiled floor.

"FRANK!" Joe shouted.

He snapped back. "I'm here, Bro—" His phone started to ring. "Hang on." He reached for it and answered. "Vanessa?"

"Frank Hardy," said the robotic voice.

Frank froze and grimaced.

"Frank Hardy."

"You know it's me, what can you possibly want?"

"Frank Hardy. Give us the code or you will all die tonight. Not only Fenton Hardy and James Anderson. Every one of you will die. We will not stop. We will hunt you down. You will watch everyone die first, and then we will come for you—"

Frank's brain processed what he'd been told, his brow dropped and he laughed – maniacally. So hard it made his shoulder hurt more. "SCREW YOU, MORONS! You didn't get my Dad, you got ME. Pretty soon I'll be in no condition to give you _anything_. Nice try. HA! FAIL!" The Pandora Posse had disconnected the call this time rather than him, a small victory, but a victory nevertheless. Being threatened sent his adrenalin levels stratospheric, and sobered Frank's mind into thinking straight again. Even though they'd hung up, Frank continued to laugh.

It had confirmed one vital fact: The Posse hadn't meant to shoot him, they thought they'd hit his Dad. They probably saw Fenton with Nancy and jumped to the wrong conclusion. His mirth reduced to a smile, happy to have taken a bullet for his father. All was not so lost as Frank initially feared.

"Frank, did they think they shot me?" Fenton asked.

"Yes." He scrutinized his phone to attempt to put a call though to Vanessa, but the signal transferred to _'No Service'_ again. "Dammit. They've blocked my cell. I've lost connection to Vanessa. What about you guys?"

They checked their phones and confirmed they were in the same boat.

"We're marooned. Okay, time to get practical. Everyone, we're sticking with the plan. Nancy?"

"What do you need?"

"You're gonna kill Pandora while the others protect you. Find the PC throwing the image onto the big screen. Find it and finish her."

"You know I'd do anything for you, Frank, but I can't remember the code still."

"I've got it," Fenton said. Frank listened as his father unfolded the piece of paper he'd been carrying since they visited Doctor Cox.

"Let me see it," she said. "FRICKIN' ARTHUR GRAY! He did it, didn't he? The Network hypnotized us!" Seeing the code reawakened all of Nancy's memories. "The SNAKE! Little, little man! National security my ass, he just wanted to split us up!" A thud happened as she hit the side of the desk, and then she settled down. "Thanks Fenton, I remember it, sorry for the unprofessional outburst."

"Don't apologize," Joe said. "You should've heard what Dad said to him, and I punched him."

Frank grimaced as the pain ratcheted up a level. He trapped a groan in his throat, wishing they'd shut up so he could concentrate, and get out what he needed to say.

"I told him I'd bury him if I saw him again," Con joined in. "He ran."

"Good."

Frank spoke up, "PLEASE, please let me focus. I think if…if Pandora's destroyed they'll be no profit in killing us and they'll leave. After, the Red-Headed Man will be alone and easier to take down."

"I hope you're right, Frank." Con said.

"Con, do you have James' gun?" Frank asked and exhaled loudly.

"Sure do."

Frank felt his adrenaline level bottom out. "Can you throw it to…can you pass it to Nan?" he dropped his phone with an echoing smack. "Crap…this is BS."

Con said. "Give me a second to get at the gun, gotta roll James over. You okay, Junior?"

"I'm sorry about James. It wasn't supposed to end like this…I wanted…was going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you guys."

"Bro?"

"This wasn't part the plan, this is wrong!" His breaths were so quickened, they were making him hyperventilate. "This isn't right." Frank knew there would be no way of pulling him back once he blacked out this time. He was making the same type of noises James had been making earlier. He started to drift away. "Dad?"

"Son?"

"You're in charge."

"Right you are. Frank, you did a good job."

"Should've done better."

"FRANK!"

"Joe. I'm sorry. I'm done. I love you, Nan." He listened to Joe's fear-filled voice, then the clatter of James' gun hitting the tiles below, followed by another round of ear-splitting gun fire.


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30**

Vanessa watched as her friends dove over tables, saw her brother go down, and her new Dad dash to the rescue. Then Frank got nailed in the shoulder. _'Enough!'_ She stopped viewing the CCTV, and peered at Mark's attempts at getting through to her instead.

 _"Vanessa, come back."_ Mark typed for the umpteenth time, but a dull stare met his enquiry. Vanessa found herself unable to respond. _"Mrs Holliday, if you're reading this, kick Vanessa up the arse!"_

Mrs Holliday gave Vanessa a good poke, then patted firmly on the desktop. "Vanessa, snap out of it. They need your help." She gave her shoulder a firm shake. "Wake up!"

"How am I supposed to help?"

"Talk to your friend. Mark may have insight."

 _"Vanessa, please come back!"_ Mark pleaded again.

She returned her fingers to her keyboard. _"Hi."_

 _"How are you?"_

 _"Don't know what to do."_

 _"Yes you do."_

 _"Mark. I got nothing."_

 _"You do, you don't realise it, but you do. Stop thinking like you."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"What would Frank do? You know Frank…get into his head. He's able to compartmentalize isn't he? From what I remember."_

 _"You've lost me."_

 _"He's able to set aside outside influences and feelings so he can concentrate on one issue at a time, yes? Unless he's changed."_

 _"You mean he's single-minded?"_

 _"I'm such a bellend, why didn't I just say that? Yes, he's single-minded, and a finisher."_

 _"Bellend?"_

 _"I'm not explaining that to a lady. Keep on subject."_

 _"Yes. Frank's logical too, and practical. He often says it's 'time to get practical'."_

 _"See? You know him. So what would Frank do? Come on, you know this!"_

 _"Protect everyone, get them to safety."_

 _"It's something anyone with half a conscience would do. Be specific. How would Frank go about it?"_

Vanessa sat back and considered for a few seconds, then returned to keying. _"He would stick with the plan. He's so single-minded, with no other choice, he would see it through. Mr H might take over now though."_

 _"Mr H?"_

 _"Mr Hardy. Fenton."_

 _"Ok. We'll see if it happens on the CCTV footage. Let us assume for now Frank's still the leader. Remind me…what's his plan?"_

 _"To take care of the Red-Headed Man."_

 _"Not going to happen. Not seen hide-nor-hair of the geezer. What else?"_

 _"Kill Pandora."_

 _"Do-able, and—"_ Vanessa waited for Mark to continue, but instead he typed. _"Look at the CCTV."_

Vanessa looked in time to see Frank aim a thumb to the camera - unsteady, but an obvious attempt to settle their minds. From one of the other views, she saw Joe and Fenton shouting across the room at each other. She smiled, and Mrs Holliday rubbed her shoulders. She looked back at her PC screen to see Mark had continued.

 _"Will he still want to destroy Pandora now do you think?"_

Vanessa pursed her lips. _"Yes, but I'm not sure he'd want to do it right now."_

 _"We can't be sure of anything. We can only make an educated guess. Is Frank a creature of habit?"_

Vanessa nodded. _"If it's something that works."_ She paused thoughtfully, then decided to explain better. _"When the Red-Headed Man took Nancy, Frank wanted to exchange himself for her. It's what he did last time and it worked. Also, Mrs Holliday hid him and Nancy here at The Oaklands, so he did it again with us. Makes sense what he'll want to do is kill Pandora."_

 _"Why would he do that? Where's the logic? Why not have them fight their way out?"_

 _"Because he thought the last time, with Pandora gone, there'd be no reason for anyone to come back and haunt us. They proved him right. As soon as Nancy hit the destruct command, the enemy stopped and went away."_

 _"You've convinced me. Let's assume it's what he'll do."_

 _"Agreed."_

 _"Look at the CCTV, at their body language. I'd put money on it Joe and Mr H are deferring to Frank. Would you agree?"_

Vanessa watched, then typed, _"You're right, Frank's talking, they're nodding. You're good at this, Mark."_

 _"Cheers." he said. "If Frank passes out, will they continue with the plan?"_

 _"Depends on the circumstances, but if nothing changes they'll stick with it. They trust his judgement."_

 _"What do they need? How can we help them?"_ Mark asked next. _"My thought's to speed up the process. I know a way, but what else?"_

 _"They need help, but it would be going directly against Frank wishes. He doesn't want anyone else involved, didn't want to put them in danger. He's a control freak."_

 _"I think it's beyond that stage."_

 _"I know where I can get help, but I can't do_ it _from here. You can though."_

 _"I'm here to serve, my Queen."_

-o0o-

"FRANK?" Nancy shouted from under the table. "FRANK?"

"He's out for the count," Fenton predicted. "I wouldn't be back in control otherwise."

She rubbed his arm. "I'm sure he'll come out the other side alive. At least, I hope so." Her face dropped at the look on Fenton's face. "Sorry, sorry! My stupid…bluntness."

"He's tough," Fenton agreed as he slipped his arm around her and smiled. "He'll be fine." Her head turned away, and his smile slipped. He needed to give an outward appearance of self-assurance, but inside he didn't feel so mighty. He was angry Frank had taken a bullet for him. He also didn't like the sounds his son had made at the end, the words he'd used. It scared him.

 _'A damn replay of the last time, only with my boys swapping roles. Frank took the bullet this time. If history stands true, it's only a matter of time before Joe gets the crap kicked out of him. Talking of Joseph—'_..."Son, you okay?" Fenton could understand Con being quiet; he was busy with James, but— "Joe?"

A muffled sound came from Joe's hiding place. "Yeah."

"What you doing?"

"Give me a sec." Joe's voice lacked emotion at first, but then he gave a defeated whimper. "He should have let me go up there…I should have gone up no matter what he said."

"Frank didn't want you to suffer the same fate, you must see that!"

"Should have gone up there."

"What Frank said…it didn't indicate anything other than him passing out. You know that, yes?"

"He's my best mate, not just my brother."

"I know, Son."

Joe's hand appeared from the side the table where he hid, palm outwards. "Let me have a couple of minutes, Dad."

"Take as long as you need." Fenton twisted so he faced Nancy better. They were jammed side-by-side under the metal table he'd pulled them into after he took her over the desks. She had just crawled to grab James' gun, but it resulted in her being fired at. He'd pulled her back under quickly. She hadn't been hit.

He watched as she dropped the magazine part way out of the gun's grip to check the bullets. Satisfied, she replaced it, and then looked to see a shell nestled in the chamber. She nodded, put the safety on and slipped the weapon into the hip pocket of her cargo pants. "Do you know how to use a Glock?"

"Of course I do. I can disassemble and clean it too. You're not the only trained people here."

"No offence meant, it's my age, I'm impressed."

"Who chose Glocks?"

"Frank."

"Excellent weapon choice."

"Friends," Con said, "I can't do anything else for James. I've made him as comfortable, and safe as I can. I'm coming over. Can you create a diversion?"

"Happy to." Joe said, having decided to mentally re-join them.

Fenton peered around the outside of the desk. Joe had moved enough so Fenton could see him on his knees. Drawers opened and closed as Joe mooched through one of the pedestals. Eventually, Joe fished an object out. "You ready, Con?"

"Go for it."

Joe hard-lobbed the mystery item at the doors. Bullets sprayed in the direction of where the projectile landed.

Con burst into view, came down heavily off the top of one of the tables and crashed landed with a grunt. He rolled until his back rested against the desks, at the midway point between Joe and Fenton. He had James' Kevlar vest gripped in his fist. He looked about, spotted Fenton and Nancy and lugged the vest. "Put this on, Drew." He no longer had his jacket on, must have donated it to his son, using it as a blanket or something.

"How's James?" Nancy retrieved the vest and awkwardly pulled it up her arms and over her back. Fenton helped but found it a challenge in the tight space.

"Putting a brave face on. I don't think he got hit anywhere other than the leg. I slowed the bleed, but it's a mess."

Nancy relinquished control of the vest to Fenton and looked at Con's hands. They were stained with blood, along with his shirt's cuffs. "Is it bad?"

Con stretched out and unfastened a second utility belt from about his middle and slid it free. "He needs a hospital, not a cold floor…here." He skimmed the belt across the tiles to her.

Nancy caught it, pulled it around her middle and clipped it in place. "James is our best marksman. We could do with his expertise right now." The belt hung low on her hips, her waist way smaller than Con's.

"It's adjustable," Con said. "Is James really so good?"

"You betcha," Joe agreed. "Wasn't a lucky shot when he knocked the gun from the guy's fingers."

"Frank and I have been target shooting with him. He's excellent. Top of his class." Nancy readjusted the belt, made it snug.

"I didn't know."

Fenton finally got the last strap to work on Nancy's vest and tightened it down. "He doesn't brag, does he?"

Con agreed. "No he doesn't,"

"Honey, you ready to find the PC?" Fenton asked.

"Hate to disappoint, Sugarlips, but that's Nancy's job," Con said.

Joe laughed, a good sound, made his dad grin.

Fenton turned to Nancy. "What do you reckon, Nan?"

"Yes. You do have sugarlips," Nancy said. Fenton laughed properly and Nancy smiled back. "Let's get this done. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get help for Frank and James."

The three men readied themselves with their weapons and aimed them in the general direction of the doors as Nancy edged out from under the table.

Fenton watched in his peripheral vision as she reached tentatively up to the computer on the desk above them. Sighing, she raised herself slightly and her chin swung one way and then the other. She dropped, and pulled Fenton into a confab. "The screen and PC are shot to pieces. In fact, every PC's in the same state along this row," she reported, indicating how much gun fire had rained down on them. "I need to go to the next line, but it'll make me visible." She bit her lip, "I don't know if I can do this."

"Yeah you can," Joe said and stood up to face the window.

"JOE!" Fenton shouted, horrified. "NO!"

Joe dropped as quickly as he'd risen. He pressed his back along the side of the desk, and pulled his legs in tight. Slugs proceeded to pepper about him.

Nancy moved quickly. Fenton attempted to stop her, but she shrugged him off, and slithered quickly across to the other bank of desks. "Joe Hardy, you're refreshingly foolish," he heard her call out as she crawled around to the other side. She went into the leg space beneath the nearest table. He then saw her hand reach up and jiggle the mouse, but she didn't dally, and the hand dropped away. Clearly not the right PC.

The shooting ceased. Joe stole a look at Fenton and grinned.

In contrast, Fenton wasn't happy. "IDIOT BOY! Don't do that again, do you HEAR me?"

"We didn't waste ammunition."

"I'd rather waste ammo than waste YOU! Jesus Christ, Son!" Fenton felt like crying. He swallowed it down.

"Listen to what your father's telling you, Joe. Two with gunshot wounds is enough. Stop being a hero." Con exchanged a look with Fenton. "I hope the program isn't on a computer destroyed already."

Nancy said, "It won't be one of those. If the PC got hit, Pandora wouldn't be on the screen. You can betcha bottom dollar they've been ordered not to shoot the console."

"Careful, Nancy," Fenton warned as he sensed her move again. She pulled herself along to the next desk and tried the mouse.

Con looked up at the big screen, at Pandora still looking down at them. "No luck."

Fenton caught sight of Nancy between that desk and the next, but she froze as the lights flickered. Fenton looked up as they blinked out altogether followed quickly by the big screen, plunging them into total blackness.

Nancy's breaths pick up pace. "I don't like this."

Fenton made a snap decision. "Con, go to Joe." He scuttled forward and made his way to Nancy, sensing Con go into motion too. Once next to her, he pulled her under the nearest desk. "You all right sweetheart?"

She trembled. "Scared. The dark makes it worse." She grasped onto him, was near curled up on top of him, but then the lights began to flicker and came up to full strength.

They looked out from under the desk and up toward the screen expecting to see Pandora there with her insufferable facial expression. Instead, they were looking at Vanessa, in the panic room. She had a pen behind her ear and used her PC's webcam. Mrs Holliday stood in the background.

"How's Van doing that?" Con asked.

"She's a genius," Fenton said.

"Can I see Mrs Holliday?" Nancy asked.

"Yes. We've been holed up at the Oaklands."

Vanessa spoke, but no sound happened. Her nose wrinkled in disappointment. Instead, she leaned forward to pick up a piece of paper with writing on. She offered out to the camera. _'Frank's breathing,'_ it said.

Joe made a hard choking noise and Con rubbed his shoulder.

"Thank goodness!" Nancy said. "Oh thank goodness!...Did the Red-Headed Man do that to Van's neck?"

"Yes."

Joe waved and Vanessa's eyes flicked up for a moment, she looked back, smiled grimly, and raised her own hand. "She can see us."

She held up another note - _'Nancy.'_

"Nan, I think she's trying to tell you something," Joe said.

Nancy shuffled carefully out from under the desk to make herself visible.

Vanessa held up another piece of paper, but then she focused properly, and her hand rushed to her mouth in shock. She pointed to the side of her own face to indicate she could see Nancy's bruises. She grimaced, shook her head and reached to hold up another piece of paper - _'Third PC, left.'_

Nancy pointed to a particular desk. Vanessa nodded her head vigorously. Nancy blew a kiss. Vanessa did the same and swiped an empathic, sisterly tear away. "It's lucky she told me. I went the wrong way," Nancy told Fenton.

Vanessa held up another note, _'Help's coming.'_

"Where from?" Joe wondered.

She swapped again, _'How's Jimmy?'_

Con made a rocking motion with his hands, made gun fingers and directed them to his leg.

She nodded. She grimaced. She exchanged the note for another - _'I love you, Joe.'_ She drew her heart on her chest with her finger.

Joe did the same. She smiled.

She held a further sheet of paper – _'I love you ALL!'_ It had an air of finality about it, probably the last pre-written note she would show them. She laid it down and threw a two-handed kiss.

Mrs Holliday moved and walked forward, growing bigger as she approached. Her hand gripped Vanessa's shoulder and drew her attention up. Her face opened in dismay, and she slid the pen from behind her ear. They could see from the movement of her shoulders she was scribbling, but before she finished she glanced to the side in consternation, and the lights and screen blacked out. In a matter of moments, the illuminations were back up as well as Pandora.

"I didn't like the look on her face," Joe said. "I wonder what she tried to tell us."

"Maybe she'll do the same trick and we'll find out," Fenton said. "Nancy, let's finish this."

She gripped his hand. "I predict, as soon as I move toward the PC, they'll try and stop me. This will be hairy."

"I'm gonna get up," Joe said and moved. "Make myself a target, give Nan a chance."

"You are NOT!" Fenton barked. "DROP! That's an order, Young Man!" His voice sounded strangely pitched, even to him. He threw his head back in temper and cracked his skull against the underside of the desk.

Nancy put her arms around his middle and snuggled in.

Con reached for Joe's sleeve and yanked him down. "No you don't, Buddy. Stop giving your dad a coronary. Let's talk about this." He let go, turned to the other two and raised his palms. "Fen, hold it together until we get out of here and get the kids to safety, so we can—"

 _"We're not kids!"_ Joe and Nancy chorused.

Con closed his eyes for a second. "LOOK! Allow me this one indiscretion, huh? I'm trying, but I can't change overnight." He ran a hand over his forehead. "To us oldies, you're our children, no matter how old _you_ get!" He paused to let his words sink in. "We need to be calm. So everyone take a breath. Stop panicking, and stop making rash decisions." They all did as told and Con continued. "Why don't we concentrate our fire power at the doors. Hopefully, they'll be too busy blasting back to see Nancy? Put them on the defensive for a change and—"

"I prefer your scenario," Fenton muttered.

"Wait, Fen...I haven't finished. I think Joe made a good but clumsy suggestion. We can concentrate all the fire power we like, but static firing will only result in the Posse knowing we're creating another diversion. It'll reroute their attention straight to Drew. If we make ourselves targets, it'll pull them away from her and make us a sport for them. They don't really want to kill Nancy, or Frank come to that, but us? We're expendable. Let's use it and surprise the heck out of them."

Joe spoke up, "I'm willing to put my life on it they don't want to kill us outright, or their leverage will be gone. They'll want to incapacitate, not kill. I'd take a slug again in order for Nancy to end this."

Fenton glared out, not liking the plan. "I promised Carson I'd look after Nancy."

"And this is the way to do it. C'mon Flash! What's the worst that can happen? We've got bullet proof vests on. Our vital organs are mostly protected."

"Because it worked for Frank and James didn't it?

"They weren't aiming at Frank; they thought they'd shot you. And since Frank laughed at them, no bullets have hit the stairwell."

Fenton opened his mouth, but Joe jumped in. "There's probably even less chance of them wanting to hurt Nancy now they made the mistake of nailing Frank to the floor. For all they know, they've killed him and Nancy's their last hope. He said to them he wouldn't be in a state to help them soon. Who knows what message they took from that? I know what I took from it."

Con nodded. "True. And remember, they could have shot James in the head but didn't."

"Didn't stop them shooting _me_ in the head," Fenton complained.

"A lucky shot on their part."

"Did they?" Nancy asked.

Fenton dropped his face so she could see the stitches holding his scalp together.

"So I see."

Fenton raised his face and found himself eye-to-eye with her. She had a look on her face his sister, Gertrude, sometimes used on him.

Nancy considered him and said, "I only need a few seconds to get from here, to there. As soon as I'm there, I'll yell for you to get down. If I try without the biggest distraction yet, all guns are gonna be aimed at little ol' me and I don't cherish the thought, and neither would my Dad. I agree with Con and Joe, I can't see how else we can do it. I don't particularly want to put you guys in any kind of danger, but it's all we've got." She pushed James' gun into his hand and began to restock Fenton's bullet belt with the cartridges she'd been gifted. "They're wise to the distraction technique we've used so far, we need to do something different, something shocking." She finished loading up the belt. "You use these; my concentration will be elsewhere, my hands free."

Fenton looked down at the gun, and up at Nancy. She smiled, kissed him on the cheek and cupped his face. "Yes?"

"Dad?" Joe prompted.

"Oh boy…how I hate it when you're right!" Fenton hugged Nancy and dropped the bullet case out of his original gun. "It's unnatural." He replaced the magazine with a fresh one, and jacked a bullet into the chamber. "Ammo up boys, make sure your weapons are packed."

"We should get Frank's gun and belt," Joe muttered.

"And leave him defenceless?"

"It's not as if he's in a state to use them. FRANK! YO FRANK! DUDE?" They paused, but Frank didn't respond. "Not gonna happen."

"Here, have these," Nancy said, grim faced, and slid the remaining gun cases over.

There followed the mechanical noise of each gun being made ready, then stillness as they zoned their minds. Con and Joe's eyes came to rest fully on Fenton. He held his hand up and counted down from three to one. As soon as he lowered the third finger, they sprung from their hiding places, and dashed randomly across the bullpen, pooling their death metal directly at the doors.


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**

Nancy waited until the guys were a good distance away, shooting at the door, before she crawled from beneath the desk to perform her half of the task - to kill Pandora.

Quietly determined, she wanted to get the boys and herself out of the trouble they were in…wanted to do her bit…wanted to make Frank proud of her and make up for the last four months. The Posse were already returning fire, so she had better get a move on!

She scurried on all fours as fast as she could to the desk and PC Vanessa had previously indicated, ignoring the sounds of Joe, Fenton and Con's pounding feet zig-zagging behind her and the returning gun fire. About halfway there, the first bullet thudded into and obliterated a floor tile right in front of her and another whizzed by her ear. A third quickly followed, impressing itself into the metal desk by her head as a fourth hit and reflected off loudly. Nancy had no choice but to drop and stretch along the back of the desk next to her. She reduced her level of exposure but in turn was unable to progress.

She looked back to see Joe sprinting full pelt towards her, he'd realized her predicament. As he drew level, he directed his firepower over the top of where she lay, to protect and draw the gunfire towards him. She clambered further, but then saw a red laser light dance in the middle of Joe's chest. A bullet hit, drove him back and he lost his footing. A second hit sent him spinning down onto his front, out of sight.

Nancy screamed and froze, unable to move even though in a vulnerable position.

In her eye line, Con ran toward Joe while continuing to shoot at the doors.

Fenton yelled his head off to the side of her.

Con stood over Joe in seconds, he glanced quickly down, then looked left and shouted, "HE'S OKAY, FEN!" then he looked at Nancy, "He's not shot. Don't lose your nerve, girl, GO!" He continued to fire over her head.

So she threw herself to the desk and Pandora and backed underneath the table.

She watched as Con dropped to reload. Up again, he began to fire a volley of rounds at the door again while running the other way away from Joe. Two guns were now clutched in his hands - he'd apparently appropriated Joe's. He passed Fenton, said something quickly…but another red laser light targeted Con and two slugs thudded into the side of his vest in quick succession and he too hit the ground and disappeared from her view point. His Glocks flew up in the air and disappeared, goodness knows where.

Now positioned above Joe, Fenton blasted over the desk she hid under and, for an instant, Nancy saw a red light on his vest too, before he crouched and the light slid away. He didn't come back up, instead, he continued to fire and reload from his squat position behind the table. He wasn't about to give the gunmen or women any quarter.

Nancy didn't want to lose Fenton, didn't want to be left alone. _"Fenton, get down!"_ she yelled, trying to raise her voice above the deafening melee. _"Get yourself out of the way. Please Fenton, you promised…we agreed!"_

Recognizing the pressure of time, she decided to ignore Fenton's strange behaviour. She raised her hands up onto the desktop, felt around quickly, and got her nails to the edge of the keyboard. She yanked it off the top and bought it down to the floor. Silently, she thanked the Pandora Posse for being so thoughtful as to provide their employees with wireless accessories - no expense spared! She didn't know whether it occurred to the gun wielders outside, but she didn't need to put her head over the parapet anymore. She intended to use the massive screen on the wall as her monitor, using the gap designed for leads to be fed through.

 _"Fenton, stop!"_ She yelled again. _'Why's he still firing?'_ She leaned back and took a quick look, seeing his frenzied face. She realized he couldn't hear her, his brain locked into a state of manic fatherly protection. Two children down, one of those under him…he wasn't stopping.

She turned her full attention back to the keyboard and looked through the gap at Pandora. Using the arrow keys, she directed the curser down to the boxes containing the incorrect code. She moved to the last letter and quickly backspaced to the start, taking out every single digit. Then she entered the real code. Three quarters of the way through, the Posse realized they were about to lose, and turned all their firepower at the big screen in a last ditch effort to thwart her. Angry barks of hot lead pumped into it, causing the image of Pandora to flicker in and out. _"Stop shooting and get down. PLEASE FENTON!"_

Nancy banged in the last few numbers and hit return. She now found herself confronted, like the last time, with a number of command choices: _'Continue', 'Abort'_ or _'Self Destruct'_. She selected _'Self Destruct'_ and hit enter. An out of focus Pandora looked down, disappointed, at Nancy, gave her a wave and a cheeky wink and the screen went blank. Entirely blank. Broken blank. Pandora, and the screen, were both no more.

Nancy waited for Frank's prediction to come true, that the Posse would disappear and leave them alone. Instead, the shooting continued unabated; if anything, it gained momentum and volume, bullets constantly hitting the top of her hiding place. She screamed at Fenton again, trying to get him to put himself into a safer place - pure madness! Her hands were over her ears but it didn't deaden the noise much. _'How many gunmen are there? It sounds like hundreds! Damn you Arthur Gray, how could you!'_ Then, along with the explosions, she detected another unconnected, metallic grind.

She looked out at the massive screen to watch one side drop and began to gently swing. It stayed for a few seconds but then the sheer weight of the unit snapped the mounting at the other end, and the entire thing fell. It hit the ground and toppled forward, away from the wall, and crashed against the first bank of desks. A domino effect started as it pushed the first desk into the next desk. Metal legs screamed against ceramic tiles and the whole thing gained momentum until eventually they connected with the workstation Nancy huddled beneath. She curled into a tight ball and, with a shriek, disappeared under the sea of creeping metal.

-o0o-

The instant Pandora gave Nancy a wink, a wave and 'died', Fenton turned his weapon sights on the PC and blasted it to hell. Although not equipped with a deep knowledge of computers and technology, he did remember the last time Nancy destroyed Pandora, she crushed the memory stick afterward. So he concentrated his dwindling ammo at the base unit and pumped all he could into it, even using Joe's supply. Finally, the PC physically lifted off the desk and flew down the room, just as Nancy became buried under the mountain of surging metal and office equipment.

The return fire, if anything, had grown even louder. Deafening beyond comprehension. Fenton felt amazed he hadn't been hit. He waited for it to happen, the situation beyond desperate. No way could he hold them at arm's length on his own for much longer. He only had a few bullet magazines left.

He decided to drop one of the guns and not reload it, but regretted it when a figure of an armed man in dark clothes appeared to the side of the ruined doors. Fenton set his jaw and attempted to get a bead on him, but the man ducked out of the way. He didn't go entirely though, hidden as the barrel of his scope-bearing rifle swung in Fenton's direction. "Dammit!" Then a gun went off from the direction of the stairwell. It detonated like a canon, omitted from a higher velocity gun than the Glocks he used. Fenton jumped in shock.

The mystery slug cannoned its way into very edge of the wall where the assailant stood with the rifle, and dusted his face with powdered masonry. His hand went to his eyes and he retreated fully this time. Fenton jerked his eyes in confusion at where the shot came, looking up to see if Frank had pulled himself together, for a moment feeling jubilant that his eldest wasn't as badly injured as he feared.

 _"Mr H, get the hell down!"_

Fenton ducked quickly.

James lay on his side, his gun arm outstretched. The weapon he held was the same Beretta he had shot out of the stair-dweller's hand earlier. He must have woken, sought the gun out and dragged himself to the edge to help. Not Frank after all.

"That's two I owe you, James."

"Who's counting? A lousy shot. I aimed for his head! Didn't you hear Drew yelling at you to get down?"

"Was she?"

"Bawling her face off! She bought me to my senses." James paused and indicated to Con with a flick of his head. "Is Dad—?"

"No. I think he and Joe got hit in the vests. No blood."

"Thought so." James groaned and lay down.

It dawned on Fenton they no longer needed to shout across to each other as the enemy's attack dwindled, so he took the opportunity to palm a fresh magazine of bullets into his gun. He turned and wilted against the side of the desk, mentally exhausted. He needed a moment. He could see James easier from this angle. "How you feeling?"

James grimaced. "Like I'm shot full o' lead, partner. Yourself?"

"Pretty good, considering."

Fenton considered his belt to find only two full magazines left. He glanced at James' Beretta, resting on his belly, his hand lightly holding it. It couldn't have too many slugs left, fifteen at most. "Don't pull yourself any further out; you've no body armour, no protection."

"Doubt I could even if I wanted to. Can you throw me one of the Glocks and some ammo?"

"Wish I could. I'm almost out."

"Shit!"

"Nancy told me you're a good shot."

"I am."

"We're gonna need your skill."

 _'This isn't going to end well!'_ Fenton knew it would only be a matter of time until they were swarmed and overpowered. He and James wouldn't be able to protect everyone for long. Fenton placed his gun to one side and reached to Joe to roll and pull him half over his lap. No bullets had penetrated past the armor of Joe's vest. At his touch, Joe moved. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Joe nodded.

Fenton unstrapped the vest and briskly rubbed Joe's chest.

Joe coughed and found his voice. "Hurt more than last time. I blacked out." His hand went to his thigh. "I lost my gun!" He raised his head and looked dimly about for it. In the process, he locked eyes with James. "Dude!"

"The blonde one!" James said and grinned.

Fenton watched Con's fingers clench and unclench. Con turned his wrists to lay his hands flat against the tiles. He pushed up and twisted to flop onto his back, wheezing.

Joe clumsily re-strapped the vest on with Fenton's help. "Did Nancy kill Pandora?"

"Yes."

"And the Posse left?"

"No."

"What? But it…it doesn't make sense! Frank said—"

"I know, son."

"But—"

"I know. I'd be up there with Frank now if they were gone."

"Ouch," Con muttered.

"Your son's awake," Fenton told him.

Con lifted his head to look, but was interrupted by a flicker of red and white lights against the pale and pock marked walls. "Uh-oh…my guns? I lost _both_ of them? Unbelievable!" Con sat up and commenced an urgent search.

"It's the ambulance," Fenton said. "They've come to get Frank and Nancy." He turned to James, "Let's do this, Jimmy. Do your best. No mercy, head shots if you can. Maybe we can scare them off if we kill a couple of them."

"Yessir!" James twisted toward the door with a painful grunt, and stretched out his arm.

Joe and Fenton gazed at one another. "Son, I—" Fenton started to say.

"Me too," Joe finished, and they simultaneously hugged tightly, then Fenton pushed him away, but retained his grip on Joe's shoulders so they were eye-to-eye and making solid contact.

"Listen and listen good, Son. Keep your head down, and if it all goes to hell, run. Make for the stairs. Don't wait for us and don't look back. Get you and Frank out of here. Go down the emergency exit…throw Frank out of a window and jump yourself if you have to. I don't care how you do it, just get out."

Joe's eyes went wide and he nodded.

"Con and I'll take care of James...and Nancy." Fenton hugged Joe again, finally let him go and retrieved his gun. He turned to crouch behind the desk and laid his arm on the desktop. He began to squeeze off bullets along with James in a thankless bid to scare off the Posse.

Joe sat up and ran his hands around his utility belt for any spare magazines but came up empty. He turned his attention to his father's abandoned second gun, snatched it, and found it dry too.

"JOE!" Con shouted and held his hand up.

Joe thumbed the empty magazine free and simultaneously tossed the weapon to Con who caught it and shoved a bullet case into the breach. He rose up onto his knees and joined in the fray.

James ran out of ammo, screamed as he dragged himself under the stairs out of range, and slumped.

Fenton and Con continued, but no bullets were being fired back…confusing. "JOE! GET READY TO RUN!" Fenton bellowed, accepting his ammo was about to be all used up and the Posse were probably waiting for that to happen before they rushed them. "CON, GET JAMES!"

Joe got up into a stance as though he was in the starting block of a race and tensed, building up energy to go off at a full sprint.

 _"THIS'S THE BAYPORT POLICE DEPARTMENT, CAN YOU PLEASE STOP FIRING AT YOUR FRIENDS. YOU'RE WRECKING OUR CAR!"_ A loud hailer request begged, followed by the relay of a squad car's siren.

"You are kidding me?" Joe muttered and dropped his head.

Fenton rested his trigger finger and raised his head from his gun sight. He turned slowly and looked back at Con. "I don't believe it. We were seeing a squad car all along, not the ambulance."

"I've never been so happy to be wrong in all my life."

"Hot diggity!" James muttered.

Ezra Collig emerged from the darkness, materializing in the doorway while looking in amazement into the bullpen. "Did you folks destroy his place?" he asked, toeing the glass. Quickly, several more officers joined him, staring just as nonplussed.

"I think I figured out why the gunfire got so loud before," Fenton said and got up. He circled the room, stormed up to Collig, and raised his gun.

"Erm, Fenton?" Collig put his hands up and several of his officers started snatching for their weapons. "We got here as quick as we could, none of us were firing on you…FEN!"

Fenton pushed him aside, went to the remains of Pandora's hard-drive, and pumped the rest of his bullets into it. Once he ran out, he stomped on the console, obliterated it.

Ezra watched for a while. "I think you killed it, Fen…FENTON!" When he didn't stop, he dropped a big hand onto Fenton's shoulder and jerked him away. "FENTON!"

Fenton finally quit and stilled. "That should do it." His hand went to the back of his head and scratched hard.

"Where did you spring from?" Joe unsteadily got to his feet and moved to Con.

"Your lass called us…uh…had someone called Mark call us, all the way from England. Looks like things escalated to mammoth proportions."

Con allowed Joe to help him to his feet and arched his back. "How did we survive? How did we do that?" He quickly moved to James and bent.

"I wonder why they aimed for my Kevlar and not for—"Joe stopped. "Wait. Where's Nancy? I can't see—" His head turned toward the stairs, "Frank's gonna be—" His attention flip-flapped. "I'm not thinking straight anymore, too many threads." He and Fenton stared at one another across the bullpen. Then Joe started for the stairs at speed.

Collig's brow furrowed as Fenton ran by him to also get to Frank. "I'm confused…Nancy? You mean Nancy Drew?"

"She got buried," Fenton shouted back.

Con rose startled from his crouched position. "Buried? Fen…FEN!" He put out a hand and pulled Fenton up short as he passed.

Fenton pulled his arm clear. "What?"

"Stop! Show us where Drew got buried, you were the last to see her." Con considered the officers around him and settled on the most able. "Ben, got up with Joe."

"You betcha!" Officer Wright ran through the desks to catch up with the fast moving Joe.

Fenton gritted his teeth, looked at the upper floor, then back at Con…but then reluctantly about turned to Collig. "We need help Chief, Drew's buried in here, Frank, he's shot up there…James's under the walkway, he's been—"

"Shot in the leg. Yes, Mark told us. Ambulances are on the way. We know your boy's status too. Help's on the way."

Two of the officers moved to the stairwell and to James.

"Let's go boys," Collig said to the other officers. "Help to shift these desks and find the girl. Be careful, she could be injured. Fenton, calm down."

-o0o-

Joe heard Ben hit the stairs behind him and was glad because at the halfway point, he started to dread what he would find. But what he did find, once at the top, wasn't what he expected. Joe froze and stared at a large puddle of blood, and the red phone where he'd anticipated finding his big brother.

 _'Frank's gone!'_

Joe's stomach dropped and his head became light as his blood pressure crashed. "This isn't happening! No…this isn't happening…it can't be happening…not fair!"

Officer Wright joined him a second later at his shoulder. "I thought your girlfriend said Frank's up here?"

"He is…he was. This can't be happening!" Joe felt his knees lose strength and he became unsteady, his palm snatched for a handhold. "This can't be happening!"

Ben quickly became his handhold, grabbed his forearms and braced. "Take it easy, Joe. Frank can't be far away."

"You don't know the half of it." Joe levelled himself. "Where the hell's my bro?"

"Sit down there for a second," Ben said.

"No—"

"Joe, don't be a tough guy! Sit down and catch your breath, take the weight off."

"Not in Frank's _blood_!"


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**

Ben blinked coal-black eyes at Joe and looked down at the blood surrounding his feet, Frank's blood - the blood he just dumbly ordered Joe to sit in. "Sorry, Man. I didn't think. Sit on the stairs."

Joe complied. "I don't believe this!" He muttered, and watched as Ben turned and took a visual note of the long, running chain of bullet holes in the wall, the blood, the phone and the two discarded bullet magazines.

"These Frank's?"

Joe nodded. "He got off a few rounds before he got nailed."

"Two magazine's worth's more than a few rounds." Ben considered the trash can in the far corner thoughtfully. He went and lifted the lid to look inside, tipping it forward. He rolled the container to the side. "A gun's here."

Joe got up and went to look for himself. He felt sure-footed now, and recovered from the initial shock. "It's my brother's, I guess he dropped it, had no way to defend himself even if he could." He picked it up and slid it into his holster. "Where's he freakin' gone?" He turned to check out the blood. A smeared path led through the plaster dust and pieces of tile to a door, the one which led through to where they'd found Nancy. "Maybe Frank moved himself out of harm's way? Makes sense if he lost his gun." Joe opened the door and passed through with Ben. He froze.

"What is it?" Ben asked.

"The gurney's gone, along with the woman strapped to it."

"What?"

"I strapped her to the gurney and left her in the corridor for The Chief."

"You strapped a woman to a gurney as a gift for Chief Collig?"

"NO! Oh my God how did you reach that conclusion? No time to explain, go with me on this, Ben, the woman gone is not good news. No more drag marks so someone carried Frank, or…Ben, can you check the rooms down the other side, see if you can find the gurney, or even better, Frank."

Ben flung open doors and looked into each room, as Joe similarly worked his way along the other side. He stuck his head in each room quickly, rejecting them as he found nothing there. It wasn't until Joe opened the final door closest to an emergency exit he found what they'd been searching for. "Here!" he reported loudly and stepped quickly inside.

Ben joined him and they stared at the abandoned gurney, the straps now hanging loose and open. Frank wasn't present, but there were signs of him having been laid down on it - blood pooled on the top. A Kevlar vest and blood soaked jacket lay on the floor next to the trolley. Joe walked over and lifted the coat and vest to uncover Vanessa's phone and Frank's utility belt. To the side were boots and socks.

"Frank's?" Ben asked.

"Yeah." Joe looked at the gurney again. "I don't know what—" He spun at Ben, his eyes wide. "The ambulance!" he half shouted and ran for the door with Ben close behind. Joe hit the stairs and jumped down them. At the bottom he saw his Dad facing Nancy, with Con crouched next to James. "Dad, Frank's not up there. We can't find him." Joe didn't slow, he and Ben carried on tearing across the room.

 _"Joe!"_ His dad yelled.

Joe continued to sprint until he reached the outside, only stopping at the sight of six men stretched out on the ground with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Five officers stood above them in full SWAT uniforms. They had 'FBI' emblazoned on their jackets, and were holding Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine guns. They glanced Joe's way and one of them raised a chin in greeting. "Whoa!" Joe uttered.

Ben asked, "Did Mr Hardy once help out a senator with his missing daughter?"

"He did. Bobbie Shandley."

"Word got through and he sent help. These guys arrived on our doorstep two hours ago, tooled up. Some of the gunmen got away, but the men on the ground didn't realize we were coming down on them. Gave up once they saw what they were up against."

"Just in the nick of time!" Joe shook himself and ran to the corner of the building where they'd seen the ambulance. He found it still parked, unmoved, so went to the back doors and pulled them wide. No Frank. Joe grunted.

"The Chief told us someone tried to take Frank away in an ambulance, is this it?"

"They used it to take Nancy. The woman I strapped to the gurney abducted and abused her. It's the primary reason we're here. A rescue mission." Joe moved into the covered parking area and walked toward the front of the vehicle. Bolted to a wall inside they found a large steel container with its door hung open. Inside were hooks which would have housed guns...lots of guns, Next to it lay a number of packing crates. Joe and Ben looked inside to find innumerable boxes of ammunition.

"For real?" Ben muttered.

Joe switched his attention to another open packing crate, its lid leant against the side. The packing straw hadn't been tampered with, so Ben pulled a handful to one side. He and Joe shared a look and Ben reached in to pull out a grenade. "You guys were so lucky they didn't decide to use these on you. Instant kill!"

"They must've considered it. Otherwise, why open it?"

"Lucky, lucky guys!" Ben placed the grenade carefully back. "You take too many chances."

"Dude, we had no alternative."

Joe turned and peered further into the parking area. A door at the furthest end had a set of stairs ending at the foot of it. The stairs led down from the main building. He jogged over and saw an emergency exit with a push-bar opener. Spots of bloods were present on the stairs leading to the way out. Joe slammed down on the release bar and found it opened out onto the rear of the building. On the other side of the asphalt, swinging open, a gated section of fence which led out into trees.

Ben followed Joe but stayed with his hand on the door to prevent it swinging shut.

A black car waited, parked up along the fence. To Joe, it looked like the same vehicle that had left before they'd entered the compound. He walked over and put his hand on the hood to find it warm. "I wonder if…hang on Ben." Joe took his phone out and looked at the screen. "Yes! Got a signal." He hit for Vanessa and she picked up immediately.

 _"_ _I just told your Dad, the Red-Headed Man has Frank. He came here first, but when he saw the blueprint, he went back and dragged Frank from the walkway."_

"I figured that's what must have happened. I'm looking at the guy's car." He opened the driver's door with the tip of his finger and found the keys in the ignition. "You all right? He didn't hurt you again did he?" He took the keys and threw them at Ben.

Ben caught them. "Hurt her…again?"

Joe put his finger to his lips. He climbed across the driver's seat, dropped the glove box and balked at what he saw. He backed quickly out.

Ben held his hands up, wanting to know what Joe had found.

Vanessa answered. _"No. Rebel warned us. The man came inside but he didn't find us."_

"Did you lock the panic room door?" Joe moved to the back door, opened up and stuck his head inside the car. Nothing to see. He came out, slammed the door and moved to the rear of the vehicle.

"Yeah, and Mrs Holliday has a gun."

Joe opened the trunk, found it empty, clean as a whistle. He laid his forehead down against the freezing metal of the trunk for a second and closed his eyes. Then he snapped them open again and slammed the lid down too hard in frustration. "Van, I gotta go. I'll speak to you later. Keep Mrs Holliday's gun close. I love you, babes." He disconnected the call and turned to Ben. "This is the Red-Headed Man's car, the psychopath. He tried to kill Vanessa yesterday, strangled her, but James got to her in time."

"A psychopath…a panic room? She okay?"

"Would you be? We barely pulled her from the brink. If Frank wasn't such a geek he carries a Swiss army knife she'd be dead. Geek's rule." Joe rubbed the back of his neck. "We saw someone leaving the complex in this car. I'm guessing he got back before you and the FBI but couldn't leave the same way. So he's taken Frank through the gate and out into the woods."

"You think Frank's in the hands of a psychopath?"

"He is, Van confirmed it. And the guy's not just an _'in it for myself'_ narcissistic type of psychopath, he's an _'I'll kill you after I've enjoyed torturing you for a while'_ type. He's gonna take his revenge on Frank. It's why he tried to kill Van and assaulted Nancy - to torment my brother." Joe unloaded his heavy, metal flashlight from its belt hook and played it too and fro into the trees.

"Did you just find something in the car?"

"A gun, a knife…a freakin' big knife…a hunting knife, cheese wire and duck tape. I'm guessing he wanted to use it at the safe house earlier. Thank God for Frank's paranoia that he installed the panic room."

"At least the psycho didn't take his kit with him. Must've been in a rush."

"Hopefully didn't have time to take anything like that." Joe lips went tight, and he patted the flashlight against his forehead several times before redirecting it again to point the beam into the trees again.

Ben had the raw depth of perception to predict Joe's next move. After his years of experience as a cop for Bayport's finest, he knew Joe's personality and motivations only too well. "Don't you do it, Man!"

Joe looked back at Ben with an indecipherable look, completely expressionless, then suddenly, he head went down and he sprinted away into the trees.

"JOE!"

-o0o-

Ezra's head spun with the information his team were being asked to absorb. The Hardys and Rileys had been busy folks in the couple of days they'd been in hiding.

He and his officers helped Con and Fenton heave the desks aside as they tried to find Nancy and dig her out from under the pile. Her voice now called to them which sped up the process. A minute later, they hauled the screen to one side, moved a desk, and had her released.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Fenton asked.

Nancy threw her arms about his neck and her cheek pressed to his own. "I thought I'd find you all dead, I thought I'd be the one last left. Didn't dare shout until I knew it was you."

Fenton used the hug as an excuse to lift her. "We've come out the other side alive." He carried her away from the pile and set her down next to James. He figured the paramedics would go there first and she'd get seen quickly.

"Hey, Drew." James smiled at her, his face ashen. "Glad to see you're okay." Two of his fellow officers fussed around him, but they displayed a lot of movement and not much productivity. There wasn't really anything they could do until paramedics arrived. One of them put a folded up jacket under his head.

"James. You poor thing." She shuffled closer, gripped his offered hand and asked Fenton, "Any report on Frank?"

"Joe and Officer Wright are up there." Fenton stepped back to open his view of the upper walkway but couldn't see anything. "JOE?" He didn't get a response, so he decided to go up and headed for the stairs. "Stay here, Honey."

"Wait for me." Nancy stood.

Fenton went back to her. "Nancy, we don't know Frank's condition. Do you really want to see that? Let me look first."

Con joined them and dipped to stroke James' head.

Nancy continued. "Of course not, but—"

Footsteps crashed down the stairs above their heads. Joe appeared and reported something bizarre. "Dad, Frank's not up there. We can't find him!" He sprinted across the room toward the outside with Ben Wright.

"JOE!" Fenton yelled after him, but Joe was gone. Fenton turned stunned to Nancy, who in turn stared wide eyed. Her hand covered her mouth and Fenton ran for the stairs.

Sure enough, at the top Fenton found the walkway deserted. "My God!" He also saw the substantial puddle of blood by the guardrail, along with Frank's phone which started to play the _Mission Impossible_ theme tune. Fenton pursed his lips, the chosen tune now sounded sarcastic and mocking. He bent to look at the screen and snatched to answer it. "Vanessa, my boy's gone!"

 _"_ _I couldn't get through until now. The Red-Headed Man has Frank. We saw him taken as Mark fed me onto the big screen."_

Fenton turned and looked to the top of the doors to see a security camera up there.

 _"_ _He dragged Frank through the third door along from the staircase, but we didn't see where they went after. He's dodged the security cameras. I've gone and looked at the blueprints. An emergency exit's back there, a staircase. He took Frank down there and out. There's no other way. There's still a chance they've got Frank in one of the rooms, but they don't all have cameras so I can't say for sure."_

"No, Joe will have looked." Fenton peered over the handrail and saw Con below. He had just finished up helping to relocate James from under the stairwell and medics were there now, inspecting James' ruined leg. James, in obvious pain, pointed at the stairs and talked animatedly to his Dad. Con reluctantly turned and got up out of his crouch. A sound behind had Fenton startled and spinning.

Nancy stood there. "He's with the Red-Headed Man, isn't he?"

Probably due to her experience with the psychopath, Nancy guessed correctly. Fenton wasn't surprised. He didn't need to verbally respond, the look on his face answered for him. "Nancy. Careful where you put your feet," he warned.

"We must find him!" she said. "That man - he'll kill him, he doesn't have an 'off' switch, he doesn't care. He won't even care if Frank has the code or not!"

Vanessa concurred with Nancy's assessment. _"He enjoys killing, he likes to watch."_

"Yes I know. He's a sadist, but his predilections will buy Frank, and us, time. He'll kill him, and he'll enjoy doing it, but it won't be done quickly…unless he panics." He pushed by Nancy and opened the door to the corridor. "The woman's gone."

Con stepped onto the walkway, and also reacted with dismay.

Nancy walked to the door purposefully, but Fenton snatched her arm and pulled her around, her back to the wall. "Nancy! Your feet, there's sharp pieces of tile everywhere!"

She looked down. "I need to—"

"No Nancy, you don't _need to_ do anything! You're going with James to the hospital to get checked out. But more importantly, James needs someone with him because I can guarantee Con won't leave with Frank AWOL."

"Correct," Con muttered.

"James hasn't anyone, no other family. You've not even got shoes. We've got cops and Ezra. Between us, we'll find Frank."

Nancy's eyes narrowed alarmingly, so Fenton stepped closer and took her by the chin. She recoiled and gave him a hard shove. He staggered, but instantly she took the few steps between them at a run to grab him around his middle and spluttered, "Sorry, sorry! The man, he…I didn't mean to, he—"

"Drew?" Con asked.

Fenton shook his head, "I should've realized, dumb move. But it shows you're not yourself. The Nancy I know doesn't do _'scared'_ ; you're the gutsiest woman I know." He placed a careful hand on her back in a half embrace, she didn't react badly this time, "Your face and eye, how do you know there's no serious damage? Get yourself checked out we'll find Frank. We've never lost a man yet and I don't intend on starting now." He put the phone to his ear.

 _"_ _She all right?"_ Vanessa asked.

"Yes. I'll speak to you later, Honey. If you haven't already done so, lock the panic room door until this is over." He disconnected the call and pulled his own cell phone out, offering it to Nancy. "Take this; we'll keep you updated. Go with James, he'll need you."

"But I'm fine. I just need to find come shoes."

Con interceded. "Drew, who do you think you're fooling?"

"What do you mean?"

He threw a thumb at himself. "ME! You think you're fooling ME? Your excuse as to why you didn't call out to us from under the table? Baloney! It wasn't you needed to know it was us; you should have known that already because of the loud hailer announcement and the squad car siren. They were _loud!_ You didn't hear because you were knocked out cold, weren't you?"

Fenton looked accusingly at her. "Is that right?"

Nancy paused for some long seconds to glare at Con. The jut of her lip showed Con had guessed correctly.

Con signed loudly. "You're not coming with us. End of discussion. You're wasting time by trying to convince the inconvincible. Stop trying to be Superwoman."

She finally dropped her eyes and took the phone from Fenton in a shaky hand. "You find him, do you hear me? Find him." She swiped her eye. "I hate this."

"Me too," Fenton agreed softly.

Ezra's voice called up from below. "Con. James needs you."

-o0o-

Frozen and in pain, Frank found himself laid on the ground, with his arms bound behind him, his hands numb and his shoulder pulsating. His legs were tied by what felt like a ridiculously long length of rope looped around and around from his ankles up passed his knees. He lay on soft foliage and could feel the cold wind blow and furl around his body. His Kevlar vest and jacket were gone as well his boots and socks. His shirt and pants, the only clothes still covering his body, offered little comfort or warmth. He felt exposed.

He could sense someone's presence but his eyes were blindfolded. Then…a slight movement next to his head, and a snap of fingers. He flinched.

 _"_ _He's awake,"_ said a woman's voice full of amazement. _"I thought we had a dying man on our hands. He's tough."_

The voice threw Frank's memories into order. Enabled him to piece together what had happened up until he'd passed out on the walkway, and what must have occurred afterwards. He'd been taken from the area by the woman and someone else. Logically someone else _had_ to be involved because she'd been securely strapped to the gurney, Joe had seen to that. She wasn't going anywhere alone, and she couldn't have moved him, dead weight and all, without help.

He gave his wrists an experimental tug to test the bindings but it sent a shock of pain stampeding up his shoulder to the top of his head and left him gasping and nauseous.

The ground shifted under his head as someone heavier knelt down on the other side. His blindfold ripped away, and Frank blinked up at the dark sky. He'd been laid down amongst trees, probably in woodland outside of the compound.

A male face loomed close and Frank recognized him as the red-headed psychopath. His heart hit his stomach and Frank thought one of Con Riley's favorite expressions, _'This has all gone to crap!'_ He needed to play this carefully.

The man stared at Frank for a long time, zoned in on his eyes. Frank looked silently back and waited for him to say something while thinking through his limited options. No one said a word, so Frank decided to play. He shut his eyes and allowed his own darkness to slither and rise up. He opened up and showed it to the Red-Headed Man.

"Oh, you're good," the psychopath muttered.

"I am," Frank agreed.

The woman moved and Frank's dark eyes rolled to the other side as she showed him a green-colored memory stick.

"Do you know what this is, Frank?" she asked.

"Enlighten me."

"It's the Pandora program, the whole deal, the game _and_ the key." She gave him a superior and smug grin. "And you have the code. And you're going to give it to us. If you refuse, it's going to hurt."


	33. Chapter 33

**I just wanted to thank everyone for sticking with what I know is an epically long story. I received some anonymous reviews this week that I'd like to doth my cap at and say a big thank you. :-) You da bomb!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 33**

Frank glanced disinterestedly at the green memory stick the woman triumphantly waved under his nose. She'd just revealed it contained the entire Pandora program, and looked plenty smug about it too. "And?" he asked, his own expression impassive, bored even. He settled his dark gaze back on her.

Her smile slid.

The Red-Headed Man's head tipped almost imperceptibly as he listened, but without his eyes leaving Frank's.

She continued, "You thought you were going to destroy Pandora? What fools you were. Great idea to get a bunch of hackers and programmers to help you from the dark net, but you failed. Spilled blood and guts for nothing."

Frank slid his eyes to the Red-Headed Man and started a staring war. "Lady, it's you who failed. I got Nancy from you. The program isn't as powerful now the dark net community have toyed with it. They learn quickly and they'll continue talking and sharing. If you can redevelop the destroyed half of the programme, they'll find a way to kill her once and for all. It's only a matter of time." By not looking at the woman, Frank hoped to downgrade her status to get her on the back foot and interrupt her thought processes.

The woman ploughed on regardless, "You're going to give us the code. You remember how the Gray Man hypnotised you, so your mind's been unlocked."

Frank kinked a brow. "Never give up on the dream."

The Red-Headed Man started showing signs of irritation - his shoulders tensed.

"Guess what I did?" Frank continued to eyeball the man, psychologically prodding at him. "I asked the hypnotist to bury the code again…real deep…somewhere you'll never get it. And my hypnotist's a professional, so good luck with your drugs and your violence. You made a strategic error when you kidnapped me. You should've gone after my dad; Fenton Hardy's the codeman now. Didn't it occur to you I'd factor in the possibility of being captured? You're getting nada out of me. I said it before and I'll say it again…HA! Nice try."

The red-headed man reared over Frank and went for his throat, but the woman quickly put her hands out to stop him.

"Temper, temper!" Frank said. "Don't damage the goods. I'm a valuable commodity you know."

The psychopath finally looked away from Frank to seek guidance from the woman.

"Look at you, Pal." Frank grinned slowly. "You're practically emasculated."

The man jerked forward again, but like last time the woman's hands were on his shoulders. "Don't listen to him, he's manipulative, don't jump to his tune. I told you NOT to underestimate him."

Frank laughed softly. "Yeah, I'd listen to her. She's clearly the brains of the operation. Does she have you chained to one of those retractable leashes? Does she guide you in and out when she needs ugg-muscle?"

"Shut your mouth!" The woman snapped and turned to the Red-headed Man. "We need a practical way to get at Fenton Hardy. We can do it through him. We need him alive for now."

Frank snorted. "So, Dad's not dead? And if Dad's not dead, neither are the others. All that firepower and you couldn't even manage to keep hold of Nancy Drew. I wonder how long you'll keep hold of me?" Frank looked to the sky. "Listen."

The man and woman's gazes flitted around the trees. "What you talking about?" The woman asked. "I can't hear anything."

"Exactly. I've not heard gun fire the whole time we've been here. Have you? My team are coming. How close do you think my guys are? How long ago did you put me down in this clearing? I hope you've got weapons because my friends are tooled up and they're angry after what you did to James and the girls...plenty angry. My Dad and Con Riley are old school, they're mad and bad enough as to kill on sight, and you've messed with their kids. And my bro? He'll tear your head clean off with his bare hands."

The man and woman looked at each other.

"You suck big time at this."

This time when the Red-Headed man went for Frank he rejected the woman's attempts to stop him. He pushed her off, causing her to fall on her back, and climbed on top of Frank. He clenched his fist and pushed it into Frank's injured shoulder, eased his knuckles in deep and twisted.

Frank screamed.

The woman tried to intervene. She pulled at him and whispered urgently, pleadingly but he wasn't hearing her.

This had been Frank's aim - to delay them and get the Red-Headed Man to revert to form and hurt him. As the psychopath enjoyed himself, Frank intended to guide his rescuers directly to them by yelling.

The Red-Headed Man no longer listened to the woman, acted independently of her. Frank's taunts had severed her leadership ties, driven a wedge between them and bruised the Red-Headed Man's ego. It made the guy more dangerous, but also made him careless. As Frank's voice hit a crescendo the woman gave up on trying to stop her colleague and instead pushed her palm over Frank's mouth to stifle him.

"Oh well. Nice while it lasted." Frank thought perversely. 'God, I hope he doesn't kill me right now, I hope I didn't push it too far!' Frank saw white lightening which turned to black as he crashed out.

-o0o-

Fenton positioned himself near the rear of the crowd, watching as James received medical assistance. Con crouched down on one knee next to his son's shoulder. Fenton felt tense, wired, bounced on the balls of his feet.

One of the officers leaned toward him. "The Lieutenant did too good a job with his tourniquet. I heard them say the circulation hasn't been getting to James' foot, so they're gonna pull on it to restore the blood supply or his foot will die or something. It's about to get gory!"

"Nice," Fenton muttered, not as entertained by it as the young officer. His attention momentary drawn upward to look to the top of the stairs, his thoughts with Frank. His eyes dropped to look out the front of the bullpen, to the outside. _'Where's Joe? We need to move!'_

Nancy sat cross-legged on the other side of James with a blue compressed nitrous oxide and oxygen gas canister on her lap. She wore Con's jacket, which he'd put on her when he found it abandoned to the side - she looked like a tiny child in it.

James held a face mask but wasn't using it, even though they'd encouraged him several times to draw down some gas and air if in pain. Con's tourniquet, fashioned from James' leather belt had gone as the EMTs battled to stabilize the limb.

"Take a good breath of the gas, James, we need to manipulate your leg and it's going to hurt," one of the medics instructed. James didn't move, so the EMT looked imploringly at Con.

"Do it, Son," Con ordered. "You'll regret it if you don't." He took James hand and forced him put the mask over his face. "DO IT!" He rolled his eyes at Fenton. "The kids are revolting!"

James began to take good, deep, breaths of gas and air down into his lungs and spotted Fenton at the same time. He raised his first two fingers and beckoned him over.

Fenton pushed his way though and Con stood up to make room so Fenton could hunker. "Hey Mr H," James slurred, the gas doing its job.

"How do you feel, James?"

James lifted the mask so he could talk louder, "Nice and floaty!"

Fenton put his palm on James' hand and pushed the mask back down. "Don't get distracted. It's good stuff, but wears off quick."

The paramedics watched James, waiting for the optimum moment.

James carried on talking between breaths, his words growing slower and less distinct. "Dad's going with you. Go find Frank. I'm okay. The guys and Drew will take care of me." His eyes were now deadened. "Go! No more waiting."

Fenton squeezed his shoulder.

Someone ran into the building and Fenton glanced to see Officer Wright. "Sir," Ben said to Chief Collig and drew him into a conversation which had Ezra spinning in annoyance.

Fenton fleetingly thought, 'Where's Joe?' then turned back to James, "Good luck, I'm truly sorry you got dragged into this."

James raised a thumb which morphed into a fist and he grunted as his leg jerked. In fact, it led to a horrendous crunch. James yelled into the mask, and a general wave of sympathetic groans travelled over his fellow officers.

Nancy put her hand to the side of James' neck and took over holding the face mask as James' hand started to slip. "Go find Frank," she said to Fenton and looked up at Con. "I don't care what they say; I'll stay with James right till the end. They can look at me later."

"I appreciate it," Con said. "Jimmy, keep doing what Drew and the paramedics tell you. I'll be at the hospital later."

James didn't respond this time, the gas and air having rendered him impassive, his leg still being forced into an angle that should have been natural but no longer moved that way. Actually, his face proved so inexpressive it appeared he'd passed out, even though his glassy eyes were open.

"Nancy," Fenton drew her attention to him. "Give Carson and Hannah a call."

"I will."

Fenton and Con went across to Ezra Collig still talking to Officer Wright. Ezra waved them to the side and pulled a surprised Ben along with them. "Carson Drew isn't in River Heights, he's here in Bayport."

Fenton clicked his tongue. "I told him to stay at home!"

"So he told me, so I put him into protective custody. Got him holed up with officers in a hotel, but he's been making waves of tsunami proportions to help. He's been shouting at his contacts in federal government, those he's done work for, and his protests have bought him into contact with Senator Shandley. Remember him?"

"Of course we do," Fenton said.

"They've teamed up. I'm sure you don't have the time or inclination for me to go into details, but I think you need to know Arthur Gray's under house arrest and facing charges. It'll go as far as felony homicide charges if anyone dies. He's stepped so far outside of his authority and jurisdiction he's being called to account; they'll be an internal government investigation. Gray lost perspective and couldn't let go. Did he say something about 'those in Authority'?"

"He did."

"A figment of his imagination and a line he's used on others before."

"I frickin' KNEW IT!" Con muttered angrily.

"He wanted Frank to dig him out of the hole he'd created. The government thought the Pandora threat had been neutralised by Miss Drew and Frank. Gray went against direct orders to save Pandora, so when she resurfaced, it caused him a whole heap of problems. He's been using Frank and you good folk to mop up his mess. He knew Frank wouldn't stop until he got the job done and you'd all pitch in - the perfect scenario…until Officer Bach got hurt and James became an inconvenient target."

Fenton felt Con's hand on his shoulder, contact made at the same time as he laid his hand against the small of his partner's back. "We would never have gone down this road if we'd known the 'Authority' wasn't real, we would've snatched Nancy away and then sought help from the REAL authorities. Now Frank's out there and in real trouble."

Con said, "No wonder he tolerated Joe's assault. If I'd known I had nothing to lose, I would have flattened him too."

"You boys have got another problem—" Ezra started to say.

"We're not waiting. The longer we hold back the further away Frank'll be," Fenton said. "It's not only distance; it's what the Red-Headed Man could be doing to him."

"You're not hearing me Fenton. Frank isn't your only concern; Joseph's gone off on his own to find him."

Fenton sighed loudly and swore under his breath.

Con turned to Ben, "That true?"

"I'm 'fraid so Lieutenant, I tried to call him back but no way. We went to see if Frank had been taken to the ambulance, and we found an emergency door leading out the back." Something further occurred to Ben and he turned to Ezra. "Chief, we found crates of ammo back there and one packed with grenades."

"Grenades?!"

"Can we keep on subject?" Fenton asked. "Ben…about Joe?"

"Joe ran into the trees though an open gate. Talked about a psychopath having Frank."

"How did he know that?"

"His girlfriend told him over the phone, but he'd guessed anyway. The psychopath's car's back there. Joe found some concerning items in the glove box. A knife, gun, some duck tape and wire - cheese wire, Joe thought."

Con turned to Fenton. "After finding that, I can honestly appreciate Joe's motivation. He would've decided time's of the essence, and he's right."

"We were waiting for Joe to join us! His running off's why we haven't moved faster. Loose cannon!"

Con nudged him. "No we wouldn't, Ben's only just run in. Joe's got all of a few minutes head start. Don't be so hard on him." He took Fenton by the arm and half turned him. "Let's get gone. Joe's only done the same thing James did with Van, he's left the slower one behind to get a head start."

"Yes, and look how it backfired with Vanessa!"

Con narrowed his eyes and pulled Fenton closer. "James did the right thing and you goddamn KNOW it. I don't wanna hear you say that to my boy, he's suffering enough!" he hissed.

"I wouldn't. I'm worried, I—"

"I know you're worried, but you're pushing your angst in the wrong direction. Pull your neck in and cool it. My kid's only over there and you're not exactly keeping your voice down!"

Fenton stopped and looked over his shoulder. Nancy regarded them thoughtfully, but James seemed still disconnected to anything around him. One of the medical team asked James to respond to a simple order, but he didn't move. Fenton considered Con's words and his hand went to the back of his neck to knead a tension knot.

Con's voice softened. "Take a second to calm down, Flash. Going to search for Frank while flying high won't help, and—" He became distracted for a moment by the action over Fenton's shoulder. "What the hell's going on over there?" he asked loudly.

"It's okay," Nancy called, holding the mask off James' face. "Jimmy got way too happy on the gas. The medic's told me to let him up for air. My fault."

James' hand came up and took Nancy by the wrist.

"Okay."

Fenton took a big breath and re-evaluated. "Con, you're right, I'm losing it. Sorry… I didn't mean anything by—" he took another breath and shook himself mentally awake again. "If we go now I'm sure we'll catch up to Joe…it wasn't James' fault...of course Joe would want to get a head start, it's only what I'd do." They walked toward the stairs away from Ezra and Ben.

Ezra moved to keep up with them. "I wish you'd wait for me to coordinate my guys into an organized search party. Several of those armed maniacs got away; they could still be out there. And Con—"

"It's an advantage none of your squad is coming right now. Any noise and the psychopath could panic and kill Frank straight away. The one grim advantage we have is he won't kill Frank until he's satisfied his sick craving for revenge. If your guy's pile in—"

The three men were at the stairs, starting to head upwards, Collig still trying to keep up. "I understand, makes sense, but, Con—"

"Can you arrange for Carson to meet Nancy at the hospital?" Fenton asked.

"Consider it done…CON!"

Con hit the top step and turned impatiently. "Stop trying to stop us, Chief!"

"I'm not. Here, take my jacket." Collig slipped it off and offered it across.

"Oh." Con took it. "Thanks Chief."

-o0o-

Fenton and Con left Ezra and went through the door into the corridor. "I assume the door at the end's the emergency exit Vanessa described as the route the psychopath took with Frank." Fenton said.

"The only one on the blueprint." Con began to open doors as they strode through and glance inside. Eventually he opened the door to the room Joe and Ben had walked into earlier and saw the empty gurney. "Fen," he said and entered.

Fenton followed and they stopped and gazed at the bed on wheels, the pool of Frank's blood well on its way to congealing. Fenton turned away.

"Sorry, Flash." Con stepped forward to move Frank's jacket and vest to one side and found the utility belt. "Bingo!" He found Frank's unused bullet magazines and unpacked them onto the floor. "Need to stock up." He split them, pushed half toward Fenton and loaded his utility belt's pouches. Fenton went about doing the same and they both reloaded. "I'm killin' me a Red-Headed Man tonight," Con said tight lipped. He aggressively pulled back on his gun slide and jacked a shell into the chamber. He holstered his Glock and pulled on Chief Collig's jacket. It fitted just fine.

They left the room, jogged to the end of the corridor, pushed through the emergency exit door and ran down the stairs on the other side. They emerged at the rear of the covered parking lot and saw the ambulance, stationary on the far side, as per Ben's description. They also found the exit door Joe had gone through.

Positioned to one side of the door, Con saw a fire extinguisher. He guessed it had been used to prop open the fire door and provided the Red-Headed Man with a way to enter the building through the back, rather than having to brave the open warfare at the front. Such a simple thing, but the illegal action of propping open the door had tipped an already horrible situation even further in the psychopath's favor.

Fenton opened up the exit to allow him and Con to step outside and they let the door swing shut behind them with a dull thud.

"Give me your cell." Fenton requested. Con did so and Fenton fiddled with it. "Turning the ringer off," he explained. "Last thing we need is for it to give us away." He handed it back and did the same to Frank's red phone, then he pushed it into his pocket again.

They saw the psychopath's car, but didn't stop to investigate. Instead they walked forward to step through the gate which still gently swung in the breeze and hiked until they were at the edge of the trees. Con reached for his flashlight and flicked it on, Fenton a second behind him with his own. They aimed them into the dark momentarily unsure as to which direction they should head. But then Frank's prolonged scream sliced the silence and confirmed his presence out there somewhere in the cold and dark, needing help.

"Jesus!" Con said as a shiver coursed across his shoulders.

"My son's not dead yet," Fenton said. "And my other son will follow his scream. Let's go get them and take them home." He ran headlong into the night until it swallowed him up.

Con followed until he too disappeared into the all encompassing darkness.


	34. Chapter 34

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews I've been getting. Not so much for some PMs I've had throughout the time I've been publishing this story. I've always been very happy to receive critiques, but please, can people learn the difference between constructive and destructive criticism. If you spot a plot hole or grammatical error, or if you want me to clarify something...brilliant - PM me! What I don't want is people contacting me to say you don't like a physical trait I've given a character, that you felt I was showing favouritism to one brother over another, that something has happened in the story that has offended you, that my writing style isn't American enough (if I've used an English word in error, tell me, but I can't do anything about my writing style), or that a chapter "didn't quite work for me". **

**Sorry to have to write this, but there was a delay in me posting and I went off the grid because I had to walk away and refuel. The last PM'd critique really knocked my confidence at a point in the story when I was so excited to post it up for you all. I took all the wind out of my sails and spoiled it. It stung. I'm usually laid back and thick skinned, but everyone has a limit (Flashpoint). I couldn't laugh it off any more. Sorry to moan, I hate moaning. Moaning makes me feel guilty.**

 **That said, here's chapter 34. I hope you enjoy it. If you feel you'd like to review, please do. No pressure though. :-)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 34**

Frank's awareness returned. He opened his eyes and viewed the Red-Headed Man's broad back as his carried the older Hardy Brother, an arm holding Frank easily in place across the back of the thighs. Frank gently swayed as the Red-Headed Man paced steadily along, the guy's physical strength more potent than Frank had appreciated. He felt the guy's muscles rhythmically ripple as he paced the ground; he'd give Joe a run for his money in the gym department.

Frank clenched his jaw which felt stiff, and realised a gag had been jammed in and tied into place. _'Dammit!'_ there would be no screams this time, and no way to verbalise, a colossal problem.

The side of Frank's face itched. Only when he watched his own blood drip away did he work out the cause of the irritation. The bullet wound still bled, just not as badly as when it had first happened, good news in a sea of bad. It seemed by grinding his fist in there, the Red-Headed Man had done Frank the favor of slowing the bleed.

The Red-Headed man took Frank to the front of a tree and unfurled him like a sack of coal. Frank hit the ground with a resounding thud and thrashed with eyes closed for a while recovering, his shoulder an agonising burn. When he eventually looked, the psychopath's eyes were on him, but as soon as Frank settled, the man lost interest and wordlessly strode off into the trees in the same direction they'd emerged.

The woman wasn't with them. Frank remembered how the man's head had tipped almost imperceptibly when she'd presented the memory stick containing the complete Pandora program, the only missing component being the code. It was obvious to Frank it had come as news to the Red-Headed Man. Something wasn't sitting right now, even more wrong than his current predicament, the atmosphere thick with intent.

He looked first one way and then the other, peered into the trees. He hoped he would see movement back there, torchlight or something, signs of people searching, but nothing. He laid his head down, trying hard not to let feelings of defeat win out.

He must have slipped into a semi-conscience daze as he suddenly woke to the sound of the Red-Headed Man returning. The man's unmistakable, heavy footfalls coming through the trees toward him. As the man emerged, Frank saw the woman accompanied him, but not in the true definition of the word, he was dragging her.

The woman's arms were behind her back, and from the ungainly way she tripped along, they were tied. The pitch of her voice rose higher as she debated with the psychopath. A one-sided conversation as the man used words only when absolutely necessarily, choosing action first.

"What do you mean, 'Why didn't I tell you'?" she asked. "Your job wasn't to worry about Pandora and her development; you agreed to trust that to me while you grabbed Nancy Drew and Frank Hardy for the code. After, you were going to leave with Hardy to do what you wanted with him. You need to remember and start to listen to me again!"

The Red-Headed Man turned her around and clumsily untied her wrists. The material came away and fluttered down. She started to thank him for freeing her, but he hadn't let go of her arm, had untied her with one hand. He pulled her around in front of him.

"You're hurting me!" she protested and tried to jerk away. "I don't know why you're so hot. You'll get your share of the pot the same as the rest of us!"

Her struggles didn't sway him; he wasn't about to relinquish his tight hold. He bought his other hand into play and began to roam through her pockets.

"I know you're angry because you were part of the original team, but things moved on…stop it!" She tried to push his hands away but he continued his search until his hand found the memory stick. He drew it out and turned it over in his fingers, inspecting it. She tried to snatch it back, but he pulled it out of range. He juggled it into his palm, folded his fingers and formed a fist.

Frank flinched intuitively, able to predict the Red-Headed Man's next move, even if the woman wasn't blessed with the same level of instinct. The man threw his arm and drove his fist forward, punched her in the head and snapped her neck back. He let her slump to the ground and swivelled thoughtfully to Frank. "Ever watched someone die?"

How do you respond to such a question? Even without the gag Frank would have been speechless.

Frank's situation felt bleak, his chances of survival less and less likely. He guessed he'd played his hand too soon, should've delayed longer, not tantalised the Red-Headman Man so quickly into punishing him. _'I'm dying out here tonight. This is happening. I'm going to be killed.'_ It was a strange feeling to know he'd already reached that stage in his young life and he could do nothing, nothing about it. It felt like falling and spinning out of control, seeing the ground coming up at a million miles an hour to body slam him out of existence. He'd taken one daring chance too many and fate had finally caught up and sunk its talons in.

The man still watched Frank in consideration, but then dipped and took Frank by the collar to lift and drag him until his back rested against a tree trunk.

All the jolting sent shockwaves of pain across Frank's shoulders and it took a while to recover with his head hung forward. Eventually he lifted his face to find the man still gazing. He reached behind Frank's head, untied the gag, removed and threw it to one side.

"Ever watched someone die?" he repeated. "Your darkness…has it ever watched someone die?"

Frank swallowed as scorching bile came up his throat, so unpleasant a sensation it took a while before Frank felt he could answer without hurling.

The Red-Headed Man patiently waited, enjoying the spectacle of Frank's mental struggle.

Frank eventually cleared his throat. "No Pal, can't say I have."

"See the light go from their eyes, seeing them give up, witnessing their spirit go. Absorbing. Your darkness will celebrate it." He went to the woman, lifted her and peered into her face. "I've never shown it to someone else." He carried her over to Frank and dropped her down next to him.

"Don't do this," Frank said to the man. God knew Frank didn't owe this woman loyalty or respect, the person who'd kidnapped, abused and terrorized his soul-mate, but he couldn't lie there in the shivering cold and allow murder to happen without at least trying something to save the woman. "I don't want to watch anyone die tonight…I don't want to…not tonight, not any—" his voice reduced to a whisper as his brain began to sink. His head grew heavy, dropped forward.

"Hey! HEY!" Fingers gripped his jaw, lifted his face up. "Frank, stay with me the fun's just starting!"

Frank's felt his cheek slapped repeatedly, each hit building in intensity until his adrenaline levels picked up and Frank focused on the Red-Headed Man's face again. The man didn't let go, his face really close.

"You ready to watch?"

"No."

"Not you, your darkness."

"Mine doesn't work like yours. I'm stronger than it is. Let her go. It's not as if she can howl to the cops. You've got Pandora, you don't need her."

"I agree," he searched Frank's eyes, looking for something behind them. "Call back your darkness."

"I won't do that."

"It'll make it stronger."

"I don't want it stronger!"

The man let go of his Frank's chin, and rocked back on his heels. For a moment, Frank thought he was going to get hit and recoiled, struck his head against the tree trunk. Instead, the man rose to his feet and returned to where he'd assaulted the woman. "You will." He paced around and dropped to scoop something out of the grass - the long piece of material that had bound the woman. He rolled one end around his fingers.

The woman stirred and muttered, coming out of her unconscious state. She moaned and pressed her hand to her face, rolled over and came eye-to-eye with Frank.

"Run," Frank whispered, "Get up and get out of here!" She frowned at him in confusion. "Listen to me, Lady. You're gonna die if you don't go!"

A level of comprehension reached, and her head rocketed around to look at the Red-Headed Man. She processed his intention and got up with a scramble, but wobbled and dropped onto her forearms. The man turned at the sound, but she got up and weaved away into the darkness, the sound of her crashing through the foliage meeting their ears.

The man set his jaw angrily. He ran at Frank, booted him, hauled him up by the scruff of the neck and threw him several feet. Then went off in pursuit of his prey.

He left Frank gasping. The man's boot had connected solidly with his unprotected ribcage, the unyielding tree trunk having offered no cushioning wherewithal. Frank pulled his legs up and tried to draw down oxygen into his lungs. He remembered his dad's advice not to panic, knew it wouldn't help. The pain finally reduced, air filled his chest, the fog cleared.

He rolled onto his back and listened to the sounds of footfalls. The eerie and empty nature of the night made even the smallest sound echo about the clearing. He found it impossible to pinpoint where the noises were coming from, and made it seem more than two pairs of legs were running. Seconds passed and it appeared the woman had made good her escape as only the Red-Headed Man could now be heard, muttering angry and empty threats. But then came a brief screech, like a wild animal caught in a snare.

Further thrashing, and Frank watched as the bushes swayed. The man's tall figure came through backwards followed by her. The twine encircling her throat and he pulled evenly on each end.

"Leave her alone!"

She pounded the man in the chest, kicked his shins, made distressed choking noises - tried everything to get him off, to save herself. She simply wasn't strong enough.

The Red-Headed Man levered her to Frank and went down on one knee so she was eased into Frank's eye-line.

"For God's sake!"

"Let your darkness watch," the Red-Headed Man ordered and moved his face close to hers, her movements trapped, totally dominated. The man watched vicariously through the vivid viewpoint of her petrified eyes.

"Stop!"

"If you don't want to watch, bring your darkness back!"

"NO!" Frank turned his head away repulsed, and fixed his gaze into the trees refusing to participate or cooperate. He didn't want to 'watch'. The terrible noises the woman made started to recede until eventually they stopped entirely. Frank saw one of her arms in his peripheral vision coming to rest on his torso. "Enthralling!" the man said, as the woman's limb lifted away.

Frank's attention was blessedly pulled away suddenly. He thought he saw something shift, a shadow or something and squinted into the trees, but…nothing. Instead, he disappointedly rolled his head back to watch the man carry the woman a few feet, and discard her on the grass.

The man swivelled to Frank and said, "Your turn." He walked over, and stood astride Frank's torso, one leg either side.

"Not your greatest plan," Frank quickly pointed out. "The memory stick's powerless without the code."

"Not as powerless as you."

"But you won't get the code from my dad if you kill me."

"I'll take it at source."

 _'Shit!'_ Frank tried scrabbling away, but had no mobility, too tied down and physically weak to make much headway. "But—"

"Done talking." The Red-Headed Man took the half step forward Frank had managed to put between them, and dropped his weight heavily onto the older Hardy Brother, pinned him hard to the ground. The man reached and spread his palm over Frank's face, splayed his fingers over the entire surface, squid like, and bore down.

Frank experienced a pushing, cloying and claustrophobic pressure which not only proved difficult to breathe through, but trapped any meaningful movement. The nature of it filled Frank with horror - being held down in such a way as mentally paralysing as physically debilitating. The man's hips slid gradually up Frank's torso and the man's weight bore down even more against Frank's face as he apparently leaned out over Frank's upper body. But suddenly the man sat back again and the hand went away.

Frank blinked up at the smiling man who displayed to him the cord he'd used as a gag. Frank went to speak, but the crushing claws returned to Frank's face to stifle him. "Done talking," the Red-Headed Man repeated in an almost whisper. The palm lifted again and the psychopath pulled the twine taut between his fingers and aimed it toward Frank's vulnerable throat, pressed the twine against Frank's Adam's apple.

"Don't!" Frank tensed. His brain erupted and threw all sorts of random ideas out there, trying to think of a worthwhile 'out'. "DON'T…If you—"

The man shushed him gently like a child. "Time to die."

Frank felt the cloth wrap around the back. Then a pause and Frank's breaths became stressed, before…the cord jerked, hard and sudden. Frank thrashed to try and dislodge the man and his hands, overcome by sheer panic, but nothing worked, he was too secured, too injured.

The man laughed at Frank's pathetic efforts, tightened cloth more.

Frank heard strange noises and realised they were coming from deep within his own throat, but not from his voice box, from somewhere unknown. His skull felt like a pressure keg building to explode.

Frank's head lifted off the ground as his eyes were pulled in closer to the Red-Headed Man's own orbs so the man could gaze even deeper, to silently observe and enjoy. His grin widened. "Good boy!" he breathed and impossibly tightened the ligature again, the cloth creaked with forced pressure. He tipped a fascinated head.

 _'Those eyes…those eyes! He's The Beast!'_ All color bled from Frank's vision as he started to blessedly slip mentally away, wasn't feeling so much anymore. The only thing left now in Frank's view, a pinprick of dead, hopeless blackness. _'Dad?-Joe?-Mom?-Dad?-Joe?-Mom?-Dad?-Joe?-Mom?-Dad?-Joe?'_ His brain repeated over and over again as his eyelids slid.

Suddenly, there came a tug, the cord slid free, and whipped Frank in the cheek. His eyes shot open and he heaved in a massive breath, followed by a series of short but deep gasps and then had a coughing fit.

"Nothing so simple," hissed the Red-Headed Man, now holding him easily by the shirt front.

The first influx of oxygen felt to Frank as though he'd burst through water into fresh air after being under for too long. It hurt his chest as much as his throat.

The Red-Headed man dropped the cord and shoved Frank's head down into the soft ground again with his palm over his face. He didn't leave his clawed limb there for as long this time, just long enough to make some sort of point, then let go to allow Frank to hack and taste phlegmy blood.

The psychopath chuckled and got off to move to Frank's feet and lift his ankles to rest them on his knees. He got so far as to take hold of the knot of the rope binding Frank's legs when a loud rustling came from the bushes.

Frank switched his watery gaze to watch Joe charge through into the clearing with his Glock out. His had his left forearm under and supporting his gun hand, and gripped his heavy, metal flashlight. He moved swiftly on a fast and aggressive interception course. "Get away from him, you SICK mother!" Joe yelled. "MOVE!" He jammed the gun into the Red-Head man's forehead, making sure the flashlight blinded him. "I said MOVE!"

The Red-Headed Man's eyes looked through the light beam straight at Joe. He lifted his hands away from Frank's ankles, raised his palms…and smiled, delighted.

Frank hadn't missed that look. _'No—!'_ He wanted to shout a warning to his brother, but knew any interruption, any break in Joe's concentration could prove, quite literally, fatal. The Red-Headed Man would take any and all advantages offered.

"MOVE," Joe repeated and pushed his weapon forward so the Glock pushed the man's head back.

 _'Be so careful, Bro…so so careful.'_

Frank felt the man standing up, but half out of the crouch, he kneed Frank's leg's up so they came down solidly and impacted the ground. It sent a vibrating rush of pain to his shoulder and he emitted an involuntary yelp. _'Don't look Joe, don't look at me!'_

Joe glanced down.

The Red-Headed Man's hand shot up, grabbed onto the flashlight and kept going. Because Joe's arm rested on top of the torch, it also went on the upward trajectory, along with the weapon. Joe squeezed the trigger mechanically and the Glock discharged and scared several birds who flew up, twittering in panic. The recoil caused Joe's hand to separate from his left and the man caught the gun and Joe's fingers in his other palm in a vice-like grip. Joe had no choice but to let go of the flashlight in order to partially release himself.

The Red-Headed Man put a move on him - coiled himself up Joe's gun arm to the shoulder and used his hand and body weight to lever Joe until he arched back, unbalanced. He trapped Joe's weapon hand into his armpit, rendering the gun redundant. Joe's other arm swung out to stabilize himself, but he wasn't going to plummet as the Red-Headed Man moved to plant his leg, and Joe's back came down onto it. The man's face loomed in. "Hello again." He brought the flashlight back into play to slam it into Joe's head, the collision of skull and metal a sickening cacophony. The beam of the torch in the darkness made it seem like a lightsabre attack.

Joe swung his left arm haphazardly to defend himself, but the second hit came in so quickly his fist failed to do more than flail the air. The flashlight went out, the second hit having broken the bulb and glass lens. The Red-Headed Man's leg moved, Joe dropped. Once on the ground, several more blows ensured Joe incapacitation and removed his threat.

"ENOUGH!" Frank ordered. "You win, okay?"

The Red-Headed Man stretched upright. "No." He hauled Joe up by his jacket, dragged him a few feet and tossed him down. He checked out Joe's position and pulled him more into Frank's eye-line. "Joe's an _'act now, think later'_ kind of a man?" He returned to pace around searching. "Should've reined the impulse in." He pick something up and showed it to Frank - Joe's gun. "Too late now." He grinned and ran his tongue over his top teeth.

"No! NO! Don't, not that," Frank pleaded. "He had nothing to do with Pandora, it's all on me."

"I don't care."

"Please!"

"I...don't...care."

The man's body turning away as he looked at the weapon. He gave Frank another perfunctory and predatory sneer and put one leg either side of Joe to hunker. He opened Joe's mouth and slowly slid the gun in. "Say goodbye to your brother."

"Don't do it! DON'T…PLEASE!"

The man straightened his arm, smiled, and pulled back on the trigger.

"NO!"


	35. Chapter 35

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews I've been getting. Not so much for some PMs I've had throughout the time I've been publishing this story. I've always been very happy to receive critiques, but please, can people learn the difference between constructive and destructive criticism. If you spot a plot hole or grammatical error, or if you want me to clarify something...brilliant - PM me! What I don't want is people contacting me to say you don't like a physical trait I've given a character, that you felt I was showing favouritism to one brother over another, that something has happened in the story that has offended you, that my writing style isn't American enough (if I've used an English word in error, tell me, but I can't do anything about my writing style), or that a chapter "didn't quite work for me". **

**Sorry to have to write this, but there was a delay in me posting and I went off the grid because I had to walk away and refuel. The last PM'd critique really knocked my confidence at a point in the story when I was so excited to post it up for you all. I took all the wind out of my sails and spoiled it. It stung. I'm usually laid back and thick skinned, but everyone has a limit (Flashpoint). I couldn't laugh it off any more. Sorry to moan, I hate moaning. Moaning makes me feel guilty.**

 **That said, here's chapter 35. I hope you enjoy it. If you feel you'd like to review, please do. No pressure though. :-)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 35**

"NO!" Frank screamed in horror. Out of everything he'd been forced to endure this night, watching his beloved brother executed was the worse!

The gun in the Red-Headed Man's outstretched arm went off…but with a dull click. "Oh snap. Empty." He feigned disappointment, retracted the barrel from Joe's mouth and tossed it. He draped his forearm over his knee and observed Frank's reaction. "Who's emasculated now, huh?"

A ragged noise hit Frank's throat and he allowed the shock to take him, surrendered to unconsciousness.

When his eyes opened again, he found the Red-Headed Man had stepped closer, waiting. He showed Frank something. In his hand, the cloth he'd just used to strangle the older Hardy Brother. He looked pointedly at Frank and then walked back to Joe.

"Don't you do it!" Frank assumed the Red-Headed Man's planned to throttle his brother, but instead the Red-Headed Man used his foot to ease Joe onto his front.

"Relax, Frank." The Man dipped to pull Joe's arms behind his back and bound his wrists. Next he rolled Joe onto his side, unzipped his jacket and unclipped his utility belt. He pulled it free and used it to strap the younger Hardy brother's legs together. He went through Joe's jacket pockets, found something, scrutinised it thoughtfully, and shoved it into his own pocket. He dropped Joe onto his back and struck him in the face.

"Leave him alone!"

"No." The man sat stride Joe. "Wake up Joe Hardy and watch your brother die," he demanded and slapped Joe's cheek.

"Don't, for pity's sake!"

"Pity? An interesting emotion." The Red-Headed Man carried on slapping and ordering Joe to respond. Eventually he gave up. "He's not waking up." He back-handed Joe across the jaw hard and switched his attention back to Frank.

He got off Joe, walked across and bent to untie and unravel the long rope from around Frank's ankles. "Your brother's a practical man. I found his Swiss army knife."

'Crap! CRAP!' Frank had forgotten his brother still had it. He'd not returned it after cutting Vanessa's scarf free. Now the Red-headed Man possessed it, and he could do plenty of damage. "Don't kill Joe. What's the point? Kill me and let him go."

The Red-Headed Man slid the rope free and looked back at Joe.

Frank desperately tried to pull the attention back around, make himself the centre of focus to buy time for Joe. "Look at me! Finish me off, do the job your leader wanted. He said he'd spare my family and friends if I let him kill me, do it. I give it…I give you permission to kill me."

"I don't need your permission." The Red-Headed Man dropped the rope and moved to pull Frank up to his feet by his shirt front. He propelled Frank backward until his spine slammed the tree trunk, then transferred his hand to Frank's throat to stop him sliding. "Pass out and I'll gut your brother right here, right now." The Red-Headed Man snarled through Frank's sinking mind.

Frank willed himself back as his face was rocked to one side and the man moved his mouth close to Frank's ear to whisper. "The man you made the gentleman's agreement with? He was my brother, and he was a gentleman, I'm not." He pounded a fist into Frank's ribs. Frank dropped breathlessly to one knee.

The man crouched and his breath warmed Frank's ear again. "I'm going to gut you as you swing, and Joe's going to watch and I'm going to watch him. Then I'm going to disfigure him. Then I'll let him go. Then I'm going after everyone he loves, everyone you love. How long until he ends his miserable existence, do you think?"

The Red-Headed Man stood. One foot left Frank's field of shifting vision to stamp down onto his injured shoulder and flatten him out. The man's fingers were then in his hair to grip and pull him onto his knees to talk again. "I remember you in the tree with the noose, using your own life to get Nancy freed." His hand released and Frank fell. "Shame you didn't follow through. Would have stopped all this."

The stomp had reopened the damage to Frank's shoulder so it bled heavily…but his legs were free! Now was the time to get up to use some kick-boxing moves. But nothing would coordinate, the lack of air into his hurt lungs rendering him lightheaded and inactive. Frank softly moaned but couldn't stop. It wasn't about physical pain, more his raw and excruciating reaction to the Red-Headed Man's words.

The man's returned and forced something down over Frank's head which settled heavily about Frank's shoulders for a second before shooting up around his neck and going tight…a noose.

It yanked Frank up onto his toes, and the man's dead and cruel eyes were there. He held the piece of rope he'd used to truss up Frank's legs. He had it wrapped around his forearm and up into his hand, powerfully gripped. There followed a lull in proceedings as the man studied Frank's face. "How does it make you feel, Frank Hardy, at the end, that you couldn't do anything to protect your brother, that you failed…you're responsible?" He transferred his free hand to the other and pulled to bear Frank's weight until he lifted him off the ground, dangling and choking. "Know this - after I've finished with Joe and everyone else, I'm going to entertain myself with Nancy."

Frank's feet swiped the grass, but couldn't find traction.

The man's head came even closer to gaze. "I'm looking forward to a rematch as I take what I want. She fought hard the last time, but she couldn't stop me and she won't stop me again. I like it when they resist, don't you?"

Frank had reached the edge of his tether, he wanted out. He wanted to scream, but couldn't. 'I'm sorry Joe, I'm sorry to leave, but I've got to do this.' He shut his eyes and allowed the darkness to roll through and sweep his psyche aside. Quickly, he retreated into the back of his mind and crouched to observe from a distance.

The darkness protectively enveloped and shut down the all-feeling Frank Hardy. It removed all outward signs of emotion. Then, it opened Frank's eyes and looked right back at the Red-Headed Man in defiance. 'GO SCREW YOURSELF!'

The man blinked and stared in confusion. He growled and pulled harder on the rope to try and bully some authentic human reaction from Frank, but could only force physical responses…nothing else…nothing satisfying. The Red-Headed Man wasn't going to get his pleasure from Frank tonight, not from a man whose dark stare was as rock solid as his own dead one.

From his hunkered position in the back of his mind, Frank felt no longer in the here and now. The Red-Headed Man's face distorted and everything droned. A gradually dimming light started to blink on off, on off, on off. Frank fancied he saw someone standing in the trees behind, an arm extended and beckoning. Then he recognised it as Death's welcoming hand before his mind imploded and he fell into the soft abyss, the psychopath's nightmare eyes gone.

-o0o-

Con and Fenton burst through into the clearing from opposing angles, their instinctive attack superior to Joe's haphazard one. They approached with years born of experience, not through the frantic panic Joe had felt at what he'd probably witnessed. They stalked up to the man dressed in full combat gear, who had one hand on the back of Frank's neck, and a wicked looking knife in the other. Frank lay on his front, on the ground.

They held their Glocks exactly the same way Joe had - gun arms rested on top of left wrists, flashlights gripped tightly under the muzzle. They aimed their lights directly into the man's face, the combined beams effectively blinding him.

Con passed Joe, but didn't look, didn't want to give the Red-Headed Man any excuse. Whatever had be done to Joe, it would be either too late to do anything about it, or it would wait for later. Frank's precarious position ensured he took priority for now.

The man looked up, and his hands came away from Frank's body, his eyes on Fenton.

Con ordered in a low, menacing, but steady voice, "Drop the weapon, place your hands over the back of your head and interlock your fingers, get up and move away. No sudden moves. Trust me; I'm itching for an excuse to pull this trigger." He stepped a few paces so Joe lay behind him.

The man did as ordered. He let go of the knife, stood and raised his hands until his palms came to rest on the back of his skull. He locked his fingers and took two long steps away. His eyes continued to follow Fenton.

Fenton circled around to the back of the man to reduce the possibility of a surprise attack. He nodded at Con, sheathed his flashlight and reached to lift the man's gun from his holster and tossed it behind him. At no point did Fenton drop his guard with his Glock. Fenton then moved further until he stood literally over Frank, and to the side of the man.

The man waited for Fenton to finish his move before saying coolly, "Take it easy, Mr Hardy." He directed his next comment at Con, "Look to your right."

"Happy to do that, but if you move, if you try anything with either of us, the other shoots."

Fenton levelled his arms, and balanced his feet even more in preparation.

"I understand, boys, I really do. I won't mess you around. I don't want ya firin' on me. I appreciate the position I'm in."

Con took two steps back, distancing himself. His eyes flicked to the right, and then back to the man. Something lay there all right, but he didn't trust what he thought he'd seen. He took a longer glance this time…and then an even longer one. He saw a corpse, laid out in the grass at the foot of the nearest tree, in the shadows. He observed a big man, bigger than the guy he and Fenton held in abeyance, probably more Con's height.

"Look at my hair," their prisoner said next.

Con took another good look and noted brown hair, not red. He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"A friend; and I'd appreciate if you'd remove your guns from my head, an' stop blindin' me with your light. I don't want ya'll gettin' gun happy when I'm tryin' to help Frank."

Con lowered his aim. "He's not the Red-Headed Man, Fen, check it out." He directed the beam of his flashlight to spotlight the corpse. Obviously the body belonged to the psychopath, his red hair evident - along with the hole in his back where his heart had been, if he'd ever had one.

Fenton came to the same conclusion, made a strange noise and holstered his weapon.

No longer in immediate danger of being shot, the man stepped by Fenton and knelt down next to Frank. "Help me!" He pulled the noose from around Frank's neck.

Fenton dropped. "Go and see to Joe, Con. I'll be over soon."

The man used his hunting knife to cut the bindings and free Frank's arms, then stabbed the knife out of the way into the soft earth. They turned Frank onto his back.

Con realised he hadn't holstered his weapon, so he did and went to Joe. As soon as his flashlight picked out Joe's face, he urgently dropped to feel for a pulse. "Uh oh!" He looked toward Fenton and their friend, but they had their own issues, having the same problem. So Con positioned his cheek over Joe's mouth as his fingers continued exploring for a pulse. He couldn't sense either…but then with relief his travelling fingers found what they'd been seeking - the steady beat of Joe's heart. "Whoa! Don't do that to me, kid!" Con complained and mentally noted to book himself on an advanced first-aid refresher course.

As Con came up he found Joe's confused eyes panning. The younger Hardy Brother had regained consciousness as Con was leaning over him. Con put his palm on Joe's shoulder. "Champ, you with me? You compos-mentis?" He could see Joe had sustained a pounding. Bruises were developing around his forehead and temple, along with a deep cut above his eye which ran with blood, and would likely leave a scar.

Joe's eyes rolled and circled back to look steadily at Con. "Huh?" He tried to move.

"How many fingers can you see?" Con raised his hand.

"I don't…am I tied up? Can you untie me?"

Joe rolled over and Con loosened and pulled the twine from around his wrists, and moved to his ankles to do the same thing. By the time Con finished, Joe had turned immobile again. "Joe?" Nothing. Con raised his voice and ordered forcefully, "JOE HARDY, WAKE UP!"

Joe twitched and flopped over onto his back. His eyes shot open and he lunged at Con in a clumsy attack that Con effortlessly held at arm's length.

"It's me Joe…JOE! You're trying to hammer the wrong guy. I wish you brothers would quit beating me up."

Joe stopped almost as quickly as he started. "Uh? Sorry." He settled back. "Frank?"

"We got Frank back, he's just over there."

Joe went to look, so Con moved to block his view. Joe didn't object. Instead he groaned and moved his hands to cup his head. "My head's spinning."

"I'm not surprised." Con re-raised his hand. "Try to concentrate. How many fingers can you see?"

Joe let his arms drop beside his head and squinted. "Trick question. Two fingers…one thumb."

"Good Lad. Stay there and collect yourself, I'm going back to your brother. Put yourself into the recovery position." Con encouraged him onto his side, faced him away from Frank and the frenzied activity. "Don't lie on your back. Don't go to sleep. Don't roll over. Basically, don't move. Okay Champ?" He slipped off Collig's jacket and dropped it over his charge. Con shivered as the cold enveloped him. "Try to stay warm...as I'm doing. I wish I could keep a jacket for longer than two minutes."

"'Kay. Too old for Champ."

Con returned quickly to Fenton and the stranger. He saw Frank's condition erred on the closer-to-death, than life, scale. "Talk to me, what's happening? What can I do?"

"We're strugglin' to find a pulse," the man admitted.

Con observed the stranger and Fenton as they eyeballed one another, lost, trying to think of something else to try. "Did you check out the gunshot wound? Wouldn't he still be bleeding if his heart's going?"

Fenton's eyebrows shot up. He reached to rip open Frank's shirt and buttons flew. He played the flashlight urgently over his son's body and grimaced at the livid bruises on Frank's rib and chest area, but then he pulled the shirt open wider and pinpointed the bullet hole. Blood churned from the wound feebly, Frank's heart still active.

"Alive," the man announced. "Must've gone into shock. Everythin' can slow if that happens – heart, breathin', the lot."

Fenton shuffled close to Frank and pulled his head back. He blocked Frank's nose, clamped his lips over his mouth and blew air in. When he backed off, Frank gasped, the bleed became heavier - running rather than churning as his heart picked up. Fenton patted his son's cheek in relief.

Alarmed at the rate of blood loss, the stranger asked, "How long's he been bleedin' out for?"

"Too long," Con answered.

"Get him on his side again."

They rolled him and the man quickly pulled Frank's shirt down to look at the back of his shoulder. "No exit wound." The man got up and started to run. "I got a medical kit," he shouted back as he disappeared into the trees.

Fenton and Con tipped Frank back and on a whim Fenton slid his palm under the fabric of his son's shirt and pressed it to the wound to plug the hole. "How's Joe?"

"Awake, taken a beating, but talking sense."

"Bad?"

"Consider the state of your oldest. The guy didn't hold back."

The man returned with a backpack, from which he produced a medical kit, and pulled out a small object wrapped in plastic - a cotton sling which he threw at Con to catch. "Fold it into a compress." The man ripped the other object out of its wrapper, batted Fenton's hand away and shoved it in the bullet hole - a rolled bandage. Its bulk filled the space and slowed Frank's blood loss. Fenton returned his palm. The man found another cotton sling, and went to work doing the same as Con.

"Here." Con offered the compress to Fenton who moved his palm to lay the compress on top of the bandage. He leaned his weight down, but red continued to creep around the sides and soak the cloth, so their new friend added the other on top and it did the trick.

"Don't let up on the pressure." The man advised and returned to his medical kit. He extracted a pouch, from which he produced a foil blanket. He unfurled it and he and Con cocooned Frank up in it. "Hopefully it'll help stabilize his temperature." He put his fingers on Frank's carotid artery. "Good, strong beat."

"Thanks," Fenton said. "I'm glad you were here, whoever you are...WHO are you?"

"A friend o' Franks."

"That didn't answer my question."

"That's all the answer you're gettin'."

Con rose. "I'm going back to Joe," He took a few steps, and stopped to throw a dark look at the Red-Headed Man's corpse. "Dammit, I wanted to kill him," he complained. Con took another couple of strides, paused to reconsider the body thoughtfully and then finally half turned to address the stranger. "I know you…in fact, we all do."

Fenton gave the man a critical look.

The man's head tipped. "You're Constantine Riley aren't ya? Claudius Riley's brother?"

"Brother by blood only. Fen's more a brother to me. So…you spend a good part of your life squatting in trees?"

Fenton worked it out too. "Hello, John. John, the assassin."


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER 36**

Suddenly, there was Joe at Con's shoulder, surprising him. Con turned to support him and accept his jacket back. "I thought I told you to stay there?"

"Only until I collected myself." Joe hung to Con's shoulder and stared at the corpse silently. "Good." he said, and then allowed Con to help him slumped down next to Frank and touched his brother's face. "Warm."

Fenton looked closely at Joe and flicked concerned eyes up, Con nodded.

Joe didn't see the look which passed between them. He must, however, have overheard the confab between the three men because he looked unsteadily at John and asked. "You the assassin who killed Claud Riley?"

"I prefer Vermin Exterminator."

"Apt." Joe crossed his legs and hunched forward to rest his forehead on his fist.

"You okay, Son?" Fenton asked.

Joe sat up straighter to inspect the blood on his hand from the cut above his eye. "Bruised pride…uh!" He swayed to his feet and staggered away into the trees.

"Where's he going?" Fenton asked. "Con, get after him."

Con followed quickly.

Joe hadn't gone far, only to just beyond the clearing, bent over with a hand gripping a narrow tree trunk.

Con reached him and realised Joe had gone to be sick. He rubbed Joe between the shoulder blades until he finished. "Joe?"

"Can this get any more embarrassing?" Joe asked, and spat. "So not cool. I can't believe the guy took me down so easily. I didn't get a single hit in. Frickin' humiliating!"

"Literally none of us did." Con tipped his head towards the clearing. "John took him out. We were too late to do anything about anything. Has Frank been in contact with John ever since he killed Claud?"

"I dunno. He's never told me. But I know if that's true, Frank won't have done it to disrespect you."

"I know. Strange though. Advantageous as it turns out."

They returned to the others and Joe sat next to Frank again.

Fenton frowned at Con.

"Call of nature," Con explained to Fenton's non-verbalized question.

John returned to his first-aid kit and pulled out cotton gauze. He leaned and applied it to the split above Joe's eye. "Hold this." His fingers returned to Frank's pulse. "Have I got a problem here? You gonna arrest me, Con?"

"No, but there are people here who will. The cops held a manhunt after you killed Claud."

"I'm aware o' that."

"A risky business, Frank involving you, and you took a risk by allowing yourself to get involved. Why are you here?"

"Frank had nothin' to do with it. The Grayman hired me to take out the psychopathic nutjob if needed and to protect y'all."

Joe snorted. "His name's Arthur Gray, not The Grayman. Don't call him that. He loves it too much."

"I'll stop in that case." John laughed. "I'll admit, it's not a job I'd usually take, but I broke my word to Frank when I killed Claud so I agreed. An' I like Frank." He stopped, looked into the trees for a second and listened. Satisfied they were still alone, he continued. "I hoped I wouldn't have to intervene but you were never gonna get here…I barely got here in time! So I shot the rope to drop Frank an' shot the man."

Con swung his flashlight to the rope in the man's hand. "He hanged Frank?"

"Bat-crazy! Watchin' Frank an' enjoying himself, tormentin' him. Frank fought right to the end, didn't give him what he wanted."

Con concentrated his light onto Frank's neck, saw the livid burn marks for the first time. "How could he have been fighting?"

"Not physically. You don't fight a sadistic psychopath physically. I'm guessin' it's how Joe met his downfall."

"Hey, I'm right here!" Joe protested.

Fenton said to John, "You're not gonna get a payment from Arthur Gray. He's under arrest, being investigated."

John shrugged. "I didn't do it for the money. As I said, I had a debt to clear with Frank…an' I like him. I like y'all, truth be told." He pointed further into the clearing. "Seems the psychopath killed the woman too."

Con went and shone his light around until his beam came down on the woman's body. She stared up with fixed, lifeless eyes, pupils wide, a twine tied tightly around her neck - exactly as they found Vanessa.

"My God!" Fenton uttered.

John shrugged. The look on his face registered surprise Fenton even cared. "She played with crocs an' got bit. Not like the rest o' you." The last comment heavy with suggestion.

"What does that mean?" Joe asked.

"I had to take y'all down in there. You were puttin' the cops an' yourselves in danger. Couldn't get at Fenton though, too fast."

Fenton frowned. "So you shot Con and Joe's Kevlar vests, not the gunmen?"

John half grinned. "Your gunplay messed with the cops doin' their job; you were as likely to hit them as the bad-boys. I'm guessin' you didn't know the cavalry had ridden into town?"

"We didn't. They could see in, we could barely see out." Fenton offered his hand and John took it. "I'm grateful you were here to save both my sons. I don't suppose the Red-Headed Man would've stopped at Frank." They shook firmly. "I advise you go because the police are coming."

"I do appreciate the predicament I'm in," John said. "I'm not vyin' on getting' caught, but I need to cover my tracks. How you feelin', Joe?"

"Okay I guess."

"Able to monitor your brother's pulse while I take care o' business?"

"Sure." They swapped places.

John turned to Con. "I can't have questions bein' asked about who shot the man there. Fenton's grateful for what I've done tonight, but how grateful are you I had a hand in savin' your lady?"

"More grateful than you'll ever know."

John paced over to where Fenton disposed of his weapon and picked it up, Con automatically reached for his own. "Don't suppose I'm about to shoot ya!" John walked over to the psychopath. "Don't get jumpy on me, Con." He pulled out a cloth, wiped the gun clean and bent to put the psychopath's hand around the weapon's grip. He pressed the dead man's fingers and thumb into the positions, as if The Red-Headed Man had handled the weapon. John then stepped up to Con and held gun out to him butt first. "Take it."

Con accepted it into his palm.

"Fire it."

"Why?"

"You're gonna get your wish. It'll be you who took the gun from that man an' shot him. No one's goin' to not believe an ex-Lieutenant of the Bayport Police Department. Tell 'em you shot the gun a third time to draw help to Frank. You need gun residue to get on your hand."

"You realize this isn't gonna convince Chief of Police Ezra Collig?"

John tipped his head enquiringly.

"You saw the crazy you killed. Do you think I would have disarmed him so easily? I don't have a mark on me."

"Ah. I see."

"You'll have to hit me—"

"You sure 'bout this?"

"No, but do it."

Con set himself, shut his eyes and waited. He didn't want to dodge at the last second. They needed John's concocted story to be unquestionably believed. Con didn't want John put away for the killing of Claud Riley, a man who caused so much misery in his and James' lives for years. He owed his brother nothing. Con had disassociated himself from his brother in his heart. He considered Fenton his brother now. He and Fenton were in the midst of a bromance, one that wasn't going to fade any time soon. They had each other's loyalty and trust. As for the killing of the Red-headed Man? If John hadn't done it, Con or Fenton would have. Pure happenstance the Vermin Exterminator got there first and saved them from that eventuality.

John's punch hit Con with the audible, ferocious thump.

Fenton and Joe cringed as Con hit the ground and ate grass. They glanced at each other. "Frank didn't exaggerate when he said things would get crazy." Fenton said.

Con got up onto his knees, and said something he knew he would regret later, "Do it again and harder. Don't hold back this time."

John massaged his skinned knuckles. "I didn't think I had! You're sure a sucker for punishment." He leaned and delivered the second.

Now on his back, Con groaned, rolled painfully and got up onto his hands and knees.

"Do you want me to do it again?" John asked, offered a hand out to help him up.

Con spat a couple of times and ran a hand over his split lip. "No thanks. I like my teeth." With John's help, he gradually swayed onto his feet and raised the gun in the air.

"Wait!" Fenton commanded.

Con paused, turning his gradually swelling and bruised face in his partner's direction. "Fen?"

"Give John a chance to high-tail it. I can hear the boys in blue and they're close."

"I'm much obliged." John moved to retrieve his backpack before he turned to shake Con's hand. He bent to rest his palm on Frank's chest feeling the rise and fall. "Good." He pulled his knife out of the dirt, wiped the blade down his pants leg and sheathed it. "I'll see you boys again perhaps. Wish Frank the best." He took Fenton's hand, and tapped Joe on the shoulder. "Take it easy, Joe," he said, and ran. He paused momentarily at the edge of the trees, leapt and snatched an M-24 rifle from a branch, then carried on his sprint.

Con waited until he no longer heard John, held the gun high and discharged it. "HELP, WE NEED HELP HERE!"

They heard the nearby shouted response of police officers.

Con returned to crouch next to Frank, and placed the gun on the ground…just as Frank made a strange, drawn out, breathy sound which pulled their combined attentions. "What's he doing?"

"Dad, that's not right."

"I hear it." Frank's breaths had grown staggered, rebellious and painful. "Con, can you shine your flashlight into his throat, see if there's an obstruction or something? Who knows what the psycho nutjob did."

Con dipped and carefully checked it out. "Nothing to see. Doesn't mean there's nothing there, but I can't see anything." He positioned Frank's head to open up his airway fully. It made little difference. "Okay, not good. He's turning the color Van went."

"Dad?" Joe asked in a tight voice. He rose to lean over his brother.

"I don't know, Son."

"Frank?"

Con directed his light onto Frank's throat, finding the livid marks left by the rope and placed his palm there to feel. "Maybe his trachea's swelling? Could that be it?"

"I'm a PI, not a doctor!" Fenton snapped.

"Be cool, Flash. I'll get help." Con ran toward the sound of the search party. "Hey, over here!" they heard him shout seconds later. "Quick!"

Paramedics finally swarmed the area, along with cops helping with the burden of medical equipment. They instantly came to Frank's aid and ran a couple of tests, which resulted in a mask being put over Frank's face to pump air into his lungs as they unpacked an intubation kit.

The first EMT turned to Fenton. "We need to transport him quickly; it sounds like a collapsed lung. I need to do a procedure, but not here, it's not sterile." He raised a hand and looked around him. "We need to bag him, can people shine their flashlights here?"

About ten sources of light swung in Frank direction.

"Where's the intubation kit?" The medic called and someone thrust an instrument into his hand. He continued talking to Fenton and Joe. "He's not managing his breathing, so we're going to help him," He removed the mask, pulled Frank's head even further back, held his mouth open and started inserting a metal object down his throat. "Sorry, I know this is invasive, but it'll help him…what happened to his neck?" He asked, took a piece of tube and fed it down the middle of the metal now pushed down deep into Frank's trachea. He then slid the metal instrument free, leaving the tubing there which he connected to the mask before reapplying it to Frank's face.

"Someone hanged him and he's been shot here." Fenton explained, and indicated to Frank's shoulder where he still bore down on the compress.

"Uh-huh…complicated." The EMT turned the hand-pump over to another paramedic to breath for Frank, and glanced around, "l need a neck brace...ah." He indicated to a third paramedic, who held that particular piece of equipment, to bring it to him. Someone took over for Fenton, applying pressure to Frank's shoulder and adding more packing and gauze bandaging. Fenton stood and finally went to his other son.

"Will he be okay?" Joe asked the EMT as Fenton pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly.

"He'll be fully assessed at the hospital…what happened to you?"

"Worry about my brother, I'll wait." Joe returned his father's embrace, then he and Fenton went to Con and they huddled momentarily to talk.

Con said, "I'll stay to help clear up this mess." He dropped his voice, "We need to get our stories straight later about what happened here tonight. I'll be as succinct with Ezra as I can."

Behind them, the paramedics and officers rolled and slid Frank onto a backboard and quickly strapped him to it.

"If anyone asks you before we get together - Fen, tell them you're not thinking straight. Play the worried father card. And Joe, you're concussed and confused, understood?"

They were carrying Frank away.

"Won't be difficult." Fenton muttered, and followed Frank with his arm around Joe.

They passed Ezra as he stepped into the clearing and headed for Con. He stopped mid-way, gaping in amazement at the scene before him. His eyes found the Red-Headed Man's corpse and he looked for a good while. Eventually, he tore his gaze away, "What happened here? Who gave you a fat lip? And…who's he?" He flipped a thumb at the body.

"The man who gave me the fat lip, beat on Joe and tried to murder Frank. It's the psychopath who set his sights on Frank and kidnapped Nancy. He's how she ended up here with the damage to her face, maybe even worse."

"Huh. I'll have a female officer talk with her later."

"I had to take him out, Chief; a case of him or Frank…him or us, actually." Con went and picked up the gun. He offered it to his former boss. "Here." Ezra delved into his pocket for an evidence bag, and Con dropped it in.

Ezra handed the bag to one of his officers, and directed his flashlight beam at the Red-Headed Man's hand. "What's with the rope?"

"Goes with the noose over there. We took it from around Frank's neck."

"And her?" He redirected his light at the other body.

"It's the woman who slipped the drug into Frank's drink. Looks like the psychopath did her in. Same MO as what he did to Vanessa."

Collig's eyebrows shot up. "That's what Fenton referenced earlier? When he said something had blown up in your faces about Vanessa?"

"She didn't return from New York in full health. You should see her neck, it's raw, you can see his hand prints on her! If it wasn't for James—" Con grimaced and turned away. "She's my daughter now, I'm supposed to protect her." He decided to get off that raw subject line. "We got photographic proof he attacked both girls. He sent them to Frank to torment him."

Ezra's eyes darkened. "Sounds like you did the world a favor taking him out of it." He turned to his squad who listened in silence. "Get this place cordoned off and get forensics here and spotlights. Everyone's been walking about the area contaminating everything, but it seems an open and shut case of self-defence to me." He turned to Con and dropped his voice. "Or at least a clear case of someone who deserved what he had coming."

Con held his gaze and they watched each other.

Ezra broke the silence. "Good thing one of you thought to randomly bring a foil blanket with them," he said and tipped his chin towards the abandoned item.

"Frank thought of everything." Con said evenly. Yes, Chief of Police Ezra Collig wasn't a stupid man.

Con stayed dead-pan until eventually, Ezra's eyes let him go to point in the direction Fenton and Joe had gone. "Go. Your kids need you—" Ezra caught himself, "Kids…from bachelor to family man in a matter of months. Slow down, Lieutenant Riley."

"Don't you need me to stay?"

"It's no longer my place to make demands of you. You're not a cop anymore. Go…and Con?"

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't matter you're no longer a member of the BPD, you're still one of us. I trust your judgement on all matters."

"Thanks Chief." Con started to jog toward Hope Industries. He retrieved his cell and selected Fenton's number to speak to Nancy.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37**

Vanessa paced the room impatiently.

She'd gone through a whole gamut of emotions as she'd watch the action on the screens. At one point, she ended up on the sofa in a scrunched and whimpering ball of mess, convinced Joe and Con were killed.

Mrs Holliday wasn't as persuaded and stood with her arms folded, continuing to watch the CCTV. She held off calling Vanessa back to the desk until Ezra Collig walked into the complex and Joe and Con were both up on their feet again.

Mark's typing had gone silent too, probably of the same mind as Mrs Holliday.

Vanessa felt they'd been forgotten. No one had updated them as to the state of play for a long time. The last she saw of the team, Fenton and Con had disappeared through the door to the corridor, and James and Nancy had been transported away in an ambulance.

Mrs Holliday now sat at the computer, fielding emails. They'd completed their main objective, so the hackers were now working to gather information on the engineers and anyone else involved with Pandora - following electronic trails, pinpointing home addresses and pulling evidence. She stored all the gathered information in a secure account Vanessa had every intention of turning over to Chief Collig once things calmed down.

Some Dark Net Army members had already taken vengeance into their own hands by attacking the sources themselves, to unleash hell on their equipment. Vanessa, Mark and Mrs Holliday didn't care; they could do what they liked.

Mrs Holliday sensed Vanessa's growing impatience. "Stop worrying, my dear. I'm sure you're more likely to hear bad news than good."

"I hate this silence!" Vanessa said and went to sit down on the sofa. Rebel came across and rested his head in her lap, so she slid down onto the carpet next to him and gave him a hug. She stroked him and felt instantly soothed.

 _"Is Vanessa all right?"_ Mark asked Mrs Holliday.

"No, but she thinks she is," Mrs Holliday answered. "Why don't you have a lie down, Vanessa?" she suggested.

"No, I don't want to yet, not until I know Frank and everyone else are safe."

"You look like you need rest, real rest."

 _"Look at the CCTV,"_ Mark said.

Mrs Holliday looked up and rose. "Come and see Vanessa," she said and waved her forward. "Come, come look, Child!"

Vanessa quickly stood beside her. They watched a mass of people running across the asphalt, to one of the ambulances with a stretcher carried between them. They saw Fenton and Joe following quickly after, Fenton with his arm around Joe's middle. They couldn't make out the person on the backboard, but assumed it couldn't be anyone other than Frank, especially when they helped Joe onto the ambulance too.

"Oh thank heavens, they got him." Vanessa said, but then frowned. "Where's Dad?"

Her computer went wild with her new internet friends messaging congratulations.

 _"Where's Big Con?"_ Mark asked. _"Tis confusion!"_ at first, the three of them seemed to be only ones who'd registered his absence from the scene, but then other texts were joining Mark's comments.

Vanessa put a call through to Con, but it switched to voice mail. She cut the phone off and dropped it with a clatter onto the desk top. Her hands went over her eyes.

Mrs Holliday put her arm around her middle, "Vanessa, don't assume—"

The phone rang and Vanessa snatched it up again, and hit answer. _"Hi Van," said Con. "Did you call me? I was talking to Nancy."_

"Dad, you scared me!" She chastised. "We've seen Joe and Fenton with Frank on a stretcher. Why aren't you with them?"

 _"I stayed to help The Chief. I'm on my way back now. I didn't mean to scare you."_

Vanessa blew out a shaky breath and smiled at Mrs Holliday.

Mrs Holliday sat down to type a message to Mark.

Vanessa went and sank down on the sofa. "How's Frank?"

 _"I dunno. It looks bad."_

"What do you mean?"

 _"I don't want to tell you over the phone what happened, but it got out of control and Frank hasn't come out of it well. I think they'll be working on him for a while before they leave for the hospital. I'm coming to get you. I want to take you to have your throat examined properly."_

"What about James?"

 _"His leg's a mess, but I'm sure they'll fix him up."_

"And Joe?" Vanessa got up and moved to the screens to watch again.

 _"Van, you know Joe. The usual…fought for his family and absorbed every hit. He's battered, bruised and shook up."_ He laughed fondly. "Thick-headed idiot! Bet he didn't follow-throw the shoulder." Con walked into view of the screen Vanessa watched, through the main gates. He headed across to the ambulance. _"Get yourself ready Van and—"_ An EMT approached and cut him off mid-sentence.

 _"Looks painful; let me take a look,"_ Vanessa heard the paramedic say.

 _"Friend, I'm talking with my daughter."_

"I insist."

 _"That might be the case, but I'm on my way out of here,_ _so_ _I insist_ _you go away. A split lip and a black eye can wait."_ Their conversation paused as Con watched the paramedic go toward Fenton, but eventually he said to Vanessa, _"Get yourself ready, Girl, I'm coming get you."_

"Bye." She disconnected the call and continued to watch the screen, as Con stopped, waved to get Fenton's attention and gesticulated in the direction of the main gate. Fenton raised a hand and Con strode out of view of the camera.

Vanessa watched the paramedic draw Fenton into a conversation, motioning to Fenton's head and hands. The EMT pulled Fenton to one side and they walked toward the second ambulance, the one which didn't have Frank and Joe on board. The medic led Fenton, his palm on Fenton's elbow, and helped him step up into the rear of the vehicle. Vanessa began to get a sinking feeling. "Oh no - no, no, no!" She picked up the phone, thumb it into life, and selected Frank's number in the hope Fenton still had the red phone.

 _"Hi Vanessa. Did you see—"_

She burst into tears. "Mr H! Get off the ambulance. You're the only one with the code, they're going to take you away!"

 _"What do you…uh…no sweetheart, it's a legitimate ambulance. Collig wouldn't let a fake one get past him. No one's after me; we've taken care of everything. You okay?"_

"No."

 _"The medic spotted my stitches and offered to clean my hands. I got Frank's blood on me and the medic doesn't want me to cross contaminate myself. Con's on his way to you isn't he?"_

"Yes."

 _"Well hold on in there. Don't worry about us anymore. The man who attacked you won't do it to anyone else again, trust us on that. He won't be back."_

"Okay."

 _"Hold tight, Con's coming. Let Mrs Holliday and Mark take charge."_

"How did I do? I feel I should've done more."

 _"Get that idea right out of your head! You saved us in there; Nancy wouldn't have got to the PC without you, at least not as fast as she did. She was going the wrong way, we were sitting ducks. You got us the help we needed. Don't underestimate what you did today."_

Mrs Holliday took the phone from Vanessa. "Fenton, I'll make her lie down. She's been running on adrenaline for the past hour."

Vanessa walked a few steps away and fanned herself with a pad of paper.

 _"If you wouldn't mind. Give her a hot, sweet drink, but no alcohol because Con's on his way to take her for a check-up. Thank Mark for us. Tell him we'll be in touch soon, and thank you, Mrs Holliday, you've been one hundred percent awesome. I must get back to Frank and Joe, they need me."_

"Don't mention it. Great fun on the whole, like old times. Good luck to young Frank and James." She replaced the phone on the table. "Vanessa, go and lie down."

Vanessa stepped up to the wall and leant her forehead against it. "I don't feel so good." She huffed a couple of times and slid down gracefully to lie on the carpet.

-o0o-

Vanessa stared up at the ceiling, registering just how ugly the lights fittings were. Frank's good taste obviously hadn't run to attractive lampshades or mood down-lighting. Mind you, the carpet proved soft, comfortable, and warm…too warm. Weirdly Mrs Holliday sat next to her, patting a cool cloth across her forehead. "You having a lie down too, Mrs Holliday?" Vanessa looked down her body to find her legs propped up on Rebel, of all objects.

Mrs Holliday tittered. "You have a funny turn of phrase." She reached to put the cloth on the table. "You fainted, and you're running a temperature."

Vanessa's hands came to rest on her cheeks. "I do feel hot. Did I faint? It's never happened to me before. It's a weird feeling. I'm really a girly-girl now."

"Up you come." Mrs Holliday grasped her wrist to encourage her to move. "You'll have to help; you're too big for me to get you up on my own."

"You think I'm fat?"

Mrs Holliday laughed, "No, I think you're an Amazonian, like Frank said. I don't think you realize how beautiful you are, Vanessa Bender."

Vanessa clambered to her feet and Mrs Holliday aimed her at the bedroom. "What about Mark and the rest of them? I need to finish up."

"You need to have a lie down. If you keel over again, your father will never forgive me. Young Mark and I will finish up."

-o0o-

Once the Hardy brother's had been loaded onto the ambulance, a long period of highly charged activity surrounded Frank.

Initially, Joe found himself cast as a casual observer from the bench seat as he battled a building headache, but he got pulled into the action when they needed another set of hands.

On further investigation, one of the medics quickly confirmed his suspicion that Frank's lung was collapsed. He grabbed a scalpel and a piece of tubing from a kit as he readied himself to perform an emergency procedure. He quickly sheared Frank's shirt from his body with a pair of surgical scissors and then threw it to one side.

Meanwhile, in a frenetic hum of energy, his partner hooked Frank up to a portable ventilator and spun to take care of a heart monitor. He paused to check out the readings the machine threw out and then turned to check out Frank's blood pressure. "Damn! Systemic dropping, BP ninety over sixty—" He leaned over the older Hardy brother, flicking a light in his eye while gently holding up the lid. "Stay with me, Frank," he ordered urgently, and looked up at his partner. "Carl, get that lung inflated!"

"What does 'systemic dropping' mean?" Joe barked, panicked, rising from the bench seat. He glanced back at the open doors to find his dad, but Fenton wasn't there. He caught one of the police officer's eyes instead. "Where's my dad gone? I need him."

The officer looked confused, clearly not registering who Joe meant by 'Dad'.

"Let us concentrate, Joe. Sit down," the paramedic who wasn't Carl said, and leaned to pull the doors shut.

Joe groaned, but did a he was told.

The medic turned back to Frank. A bag of fluid found its way onto a hook above and an intravenous needle introduced to Frank's wrist. The EMT mumbled, complaining under his breath, finding it difficult to find a vein as they were collapsing every bit as much as his lung. Eventually the man managed to reach his goal and slid the needle in. His thumb held down the needle and tubing and he reached for some tape.

"Don't panic, Joe," Carl said in a calming voice as he used a scalpel to make a careful incision in Frank's chest and fed a piece of tube into his chest cavity. "Watch your brother," he encouraged. "You'll see a big change in a second."

As the tube found its mark, Joe heard air escape and saw blood ooze down the hose to be siphoned off into a bag, blood that had clogged his brother's chest, preventing his lung from expanding. Frank's face lost its ashen look, gaining more color as the intake of oxygen increased. "Whoa. Cool!"

"I always think so." Carl flashed a grin, grabbed more medical equipment, and said to his partner. "I'm administering five mgcs of Dopamine, see if I can't get his pressure up." He ripped a syringe from its wrapping.

"I'll re-pack the shoulder, minimise the blood loss." He went to the bandages, and turned quickly to Joe. "Could you do your brother a huge favor?"

"Name it."

"Squeeze that bag—"

Joe did as instructed, not feeling so much like a spare tire now.

Frank moved, apparently objecting to the medic's interference around his upper arm area. Frank reached for it, the first indication he had any level of comprehension and his eyelids fluttered. Joe leaned to catch the limb before the window of opportunity slammed shut. "Frank, you're safe. We're through the other side. Nancy's waiting at the hospital. Do you hear me?" Frank gave the briefest squeeze in response, his eyelids opening fully. He presented Joe with a dull, unfocussed gaze. "I'm sorry Dude, I'm sorry I didn't get there in time!" Frank frowned and clutched tighter. "I'm sorry."

"Frank, stay with us," Carl said. He finished administering the Dopamine and watched the monitor, reading Frank's vitals. "Okay, heart's responding well." He smiled at Frank. "You don't give up easy, do you Frank…Frank?" He watched for a few seconds, and then took Frank's hand from a confused Joe. "Frank, squeeze my hand if you can hear me." He pressed down hard on Frank's clavicle. "Steve, he's unresponsive to pain stimuli." He flicked a light in Frank's eyes. "Pupil's responsive."

"Is he okay?" Joe asked.

"Take a seat. I can take over now."

Joe sat and put his head in his hands.

"I'm done." Steve said. "Blood pressures rising, he's as stable as we're gonna get him. He reached and slapped his hand down on the driver's shoulder. "GO!"


	38. Chapter 38

**I've had a lot of really heart-warming reviews lately. Thank you so much, you've all been so kind. I'm glad I'm entertaining you. We are down to our three or four chapters now. I really hope I've tied off all those loose ends because they're flapping around all over the place. :-)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 38**

Lights flashed, siren blared and the ambulance driver shot off like a rally driver, a bona-fide life and death dash with Frank's life in his hands. Steve the paramedic staggered down the gangway, colliding with Carl, his colleague, who held on to the gurney's rail. Steve ended up at the rear of the ambulance.

Joe leaned across the gap and rested his hands on Frank's forearm. "Don't die on us Frank, yeah? Don't do that. Not after all the work you did. Not now you got Nancy back."

They continued to be thrown all over the place, so Carl advised Joe stretch out on the bench seat as a pillow appeared under his head.

The paramedics crouched awkwardly in the little spare room available to lower their center of balance. Carl briefly stood to take something from his pocket and turned his attention to Joe, perching himself on the end of the bench seat. Fair to say the younger Hardy brother's state of health had been neglected.

"I think I'm okay," Joe said. He tried to reach across the gangway to Frank, but Frank was too far away.

Carl took Joe's arm and rested it back on the bench. "Probably, but I'm taking a look at you anyway."

Joe attempted to relax as a light shone in his eye. Carl leaned right over him with his forearms pressed into his chest. Joe tried to ignore the beam making his headache worse and the bony elbows. It wasn't Carl's fault; he had to keep his equilibrium somehow.

The light-beam moved from one eye to the other, then it went away and Carl looked back at his partner.

Steve had gotten back onto his feet with one hand on the rail of Frank's bed. He switched his attention from monitoring Frank's vitals to watching Joe, especially when Carl didn't break contact.

"What?" Joe asked.

After a few seconds of unspoken commentary, Carl turned back. "Relax for me Joe, I'm going to take another look," and the light returned, flicking backwards and forwards from one eye to the other. Joe must have fidgeted or something because Carl said, "Okay Joe, I don't want you to move around, try to lie still, I know it's difficult, but I need you to be calm. Let us know if you start to feel nauseous." The light went away. "Can you lie on your side for me?"

"Why?" Joe asked, repositioning himself. At least this way he could see Frank. Carl retained a hand on his shoulder.

The vehicle slowed to a halt. Joe assumed they were stopping in traffic, but then the vehicle backed up and leaned to one side as it prepared to turn. The blinkers made as much noise as the siren, banging around in Joe's skull. Carl's hand went away and he stood. Joe looked to see him lean toward the driver. "What's going on? Why are we turning around?" He rubbed his eye hard to try and get his vision back.

Carl stuck a finger in his ear to shut Joe out, leaned closer to the driver, nodded and turned to relay something quickly to Steve. Carl turned awkwardly and joined Steve to mess with the life-saving equipment hooked into Frank's body. They began to remove the heart monitor. "Don't move Joe, stay there."

Joe went to protest but the ambulance swung into a tight about turn and rolled him onto his back. A hand found his shoulder and returned him to his original position. "Don't move." He looked to see the paramedics brace themselves as the vehicle slammed into forward motion again, and roll on at breakneck speed. Carl and Steve returned to Frank, to continue what they'd started.

"What's happening?" Joe shouted. "Stop what you're doing! Don't make me a liar, I told Frank we're safe." He sat up. "We don't know the code and Pandora's destroyed. Don't you _get_ there's no profit in this? All you're gonna benefit from is Frank's death if you disconnect him to take him away." Joe swung his legs onto the floor and stood to battle their hands away from the machines and Frank. "This is insane…STOP!"

Steve caught Joe's wrists and pushed them away. "Joe, were not putting Frank at risk. Lie back, we're making a detour." He gave Joe a gentle push and the back of his legs hit the bench seat and folded so he sat down. The EMTs shared a look. "He's growing confused, getting over-excited."

"Confused, my ass!" Joe lurched to push himself between Frank and them. "Hello! I'm right here, talk to me, not _at_ me. Stop this vehicle!" He now suspected the only reason he'd been allowed on the ambulance had been to trap the brother's in one place. "Get away from my bro!" The vehicle swayed violently. He lost his feet and tipped forward onto the seat again.

"Behave yourself," Steve ordered. "You could have fallen on your brother!"

Two pairs of hands seized Joe as he tried to get up again.

"Can't we go any faster?" Carl bellowed at the driver. "We got a volatile situation developing back here." The driver put his thumb up and the forward propulsion kicked up even more and unbalanced them. Steve tripped over his own feet and dropped down onto Joe. He used it as an excuse to hold Joe down while Carl attempted to lift Joe's legs onto the bench seat. Joe kicked him off, but Carl returned with a syringe in hand, drawing down liquid into it. "Nothing to worry about, Joe, I'm going to—"

"I don't think so, Pal!" Joe hit out and knocked the syringe from Carl's fingers, then used his superior strength to push Steve off. "You guys need to get off the script! You want over-excited and volatile? You're gonna get over-excited and volatile!" He got up and dived over into the front seat.

"What the—" the driver spluttered as Joe landed beside him. "Where did _you_ spring from?"

"Your worst possible nightmare, Buster!" Joe swivelled around into a seated position, grabbed handfuls of the driver's jacket and reared up to shake him. "Stop this ambulance!" he snarled, but found himself blinded by lights and squinted out of the windshield to see they were coming up on a line of cars, their beams on full. He still couldn't see out of the one eye, but the other discerned a group of shadowed figures. Joe's arms momentarily stilled. _"NO!"_ The brakes slammed on full and catapulted him into the dashboard, taking the driver with him.

The driver ripped himself free and snatched the door open to leap out onto the asphalt. "I don't get paid enough for this," he complained. Joe heard his voice recede as the man moved quickly away. "He attacked me…the _size_ of him."

Joe reared up and glared darkly through the window at him. "You'd better run, Pal!"

The driver ran backwards a few more steps. "Sheesh!" People ran past the driver towards the ambulance.

 _"_ _Don't touch him, I'll deal with it,"_ someone shouted from the other side of the ambulance.

"I don't think you will," Joe muttered. He slid across into the driver's seat and reached for the ignition, ignoring the fact the split to his forehead had begun to bleed again. He glanced back to find Carl and Steve still there holding Frank steady and not looking at all secure in their surroundings. Joe didn't have time to eject them so decided to take them along. "Hold tight, Boys, we're going for a ride!" Joe called. "You do anything to Frank and you'll pay… _massively_." He reached to shut the driver's door but someone held it open. Joe shrugged his shoulders. "You get pulled along as I back up? Your problem!"

The passenger door opened and someone prepared to climb aboard but Joe's hand had already grasped the key. He turned the engine over. Regrettably the transmission wasn't in neutral and the ambulance jerked, stalled and rocked him into the steering column. He curled his lip in frustration.

Men were at the driver's door about to grab Joe, as someone pulled themselves on to the passenger seat.

"DAMMIT!" Joe bellowed. He reached to unhook a fire extinguisher, held it high and spun toward the intruder.

"Joe, STOP!"

He jerked his arm back and froze at the sight of his dad.

"You okay?" Fenton asked calmly, and gently took the extinguisher from him as someone else reached inside to pluck the key from the ignition.

"What the… _FREAK'S_ happening, Dad? Suddenly we were turning and no one would tell me why and they came at me with a hypo, exactly like what happened to Nan. They're unhooking Frank from the machines. We need to stop them, they're KILLING him!" He swiped at his eye, he still couldn't see. He grunted angrily. "Stupid eye!"

Fenton placed hands on his upper arms. "Listen carefully, Joe," he said in a quiet tone as he held solid eye contact. "They've sent an air-ambulance for both of you. A chopper arrived after you left so they recalled the ambulance. Everyone wants to help. You grasping what I'm telling you?"

"I'm not a moron!"

"I know…I know. I think your head's worse than we thought, but it's all good."

His dad's soothing voice ensured Joe became calmer in response. He looked back into the interior to see a group of people in clothes which screamed 'military' lifting Frank off. Frank _had_ been severed from the portable ventilator but they'd reintroduced the mask and were manually pumping air in rhythmically. One of the mystery men climbed back aboard and moved further into the ambulance to dip and presumably pick up another piece of equipment.

Joe switched to look out of the front window and realized the cars barring their way were squad cars with their front lights beaming their way. Ben Wright stood there, with a look of concern. Finally, Joe looked at his father. "I think…I misread things. My head's banging."

"No surprise." Fenton rose onto his knees until he was above his son, and put his arms around his son's shoulders. "Look at Ben, I think you worried him half to death when you ran off."

Joe looked, and as he turned away he experienced a prickle of heat in his neck. He spun back to see the guy who'd just climbed aboard with a syringe in his hand. "Sorry, was necessary," he said and laid a hand on Joe shoulder. "Can't have you getting agitated on the chopper."

"Dad? What did you do?" Joe asked feeling his head growing heavy and already hearing his own voice slurring. He found himself angled precariously over the open doorway, the only thing stopping him from falling out onto the road being his father's arms. "Come on, Son, job's done," his father said into his ear. Then Joe felt himself tilted over the tipping point and gentle hands caught and supported him down onto a stretcher.

-o0o-

 _'_ _You're a father now, Constantine Riley! Time to step up the plate…imbecile!'_

Con, continued to internally berate himself as he stepped from the car outside the Oaklands Hotel. He couldn't help it. Although irrational, his conscience continued to beat him about the head, doing a good job of convincing him he should hold himself accountable for what had happened to James and Vanessa.

"You all right?" Mrs Holliday asked with a frown as he stepped into the hall.

No he wasn't, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "It's Vanessa I'm concerned about," he hedged. "Where is she?"

"Up in the panic room, having a lie down. She fainted and is running a temperature. Overdone it I expect. Look, Con. Do you want a coffee? I can put a brandy in it?"

Con ignored her offer and glared over her head towards the stars. "She fainted? A worry!"

"Not really, Con. I'm surprised it didn't happen earlier. Stress and a lack of sleep…coffee?"

"She decent?" He stared down at his bloodied hands.

"Go on up, she'll be glad to see you."

"I need to wash my hands," he muttered. "I don't want to scare her any more than she already is." Con climbed the stairs and went to his room, let himself in and shut the door.

He leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes, but then he looked down again at his hands and then up to the bathroom. He went there, stripping off his jacket, vest, belt, gun and shirt as he went, abandoning them wherever they landed. At the basin, he ran the faucet on full until he got the water as steaming hot as he could stand, and went about meticulously scrubbing his son's blood away. He did this four times over, hard, with a nail brush, grimacing as the scolding hot water turned pink, almost as pink as his scorched and scratched arms. Eventually satisfied, he released the murky water into the drainage system.

He collapsed next to the toilet pan to be violently sick, then sat and waited for it to happen again, expecting it to, but it didn't. So, he stood and got damn angry. Paced the room and raved under his breath, putting himself freakin' straight.

There followed a period of relative stillness as he cleaned his teeth, splashed his face with cold water and changed into a fresh shirt - a grey one to match his mood. He hadn't button it properly before he felt his fury rise again, so sat on the edge of the bed to really calm down. His knees bounced. He didn't want Vanessa to witness him in that state, so he lay back and covered his eyes with his forearm, his booted feet now still on the carpet. He tried Joe's trick of counting slowly back from ten.

 _"_ _Con,"_ a voice said and shook him firmly.

He gasped and opened his eyes to see Mrs Holliday at the foot of the bed with his spare bedroom key in her hand. "Man alive!" he said, sat up quickly and fastened his shirt fully. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. "How long?"

"About two hours. I knocked on the door but you didn't hear me. Fenton's phoned, wondering where you are. James's gone into surgery.

"I promised I'd be there!"

"You wouldn't have been in time. They prioritised him, wheeled him straight through. Frank's in surgery too. Joe took a bad turn in the ambulance so they're running tests and he's staying in." She smiled at him. "You boys need to take better care of yourselves! Vanessa needed the rest, and so did you apparently so no harm done."

"I need to see her." Con got up and went into the hallway. _"Idiot!"_ he spat at himself as he headed to the end of the corridor. _"Suckiest father ever!"_


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39**

Con went through the panic room to see Vanessa. Unable to calm himself, anger eating at him…it made him jittery as hell. He reached the door and started to open it, but Rebel bowled through at full pelt from the other side. He careened into Con with his front feet high, straight into his torso. Con grunted, "Oof!" and folded in the middle, catching his companion before Rebel bowled him over entirely.

Rebel's tail beat in such a tight circle he risked taking off and circling the room.

Con dropped them both to the ground and allowed himself time to pet Rebel while still on his knees. Rebel had a real calming effect, and by the end, had Con smiling. He eventually sent the dog off with a hand gesture. "Mad dog."

He stood and looked into the room to find Vanessa laid on top of the covers, curled into a tight ball, looking asleep. Apparently Rebel's antics hadn't been loud enough as to rouse her.

Con sank down onto the edge of the bed, unsure what to do next. _'Darn Fenton Hardy and his easy parenting skills!'_ He moved her blonde hair to one side so he could see her face, put his hand against her forehead and then her cheek. _'She does feel hot.'_ Vanessa stirred, so he yanked the hand away.

Her eyes fluttered open and focused in on the wall. She hadn't yet sensed his presence, but then, startled, she twisted to look at him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself. What happened to your face?"

"Got into a tussle with a killer." He hadn't lied; he'd rumbled with a killer all right, just not the one who attacked Vanessa. He watched her for another couple of seconds then reached to offer her his arms. She sat up and leaned forward, so he moved closer and accepted her gently, holding her as she cried. Her arms slid around his middle, gripping tightly and she buried her head into his shoulder. _'Why do they always leak?'_ He squeezed her tighter, she didn't try to escape. _'Huh, maybe I could get the hang of this, given enough practice.'_ He felt himself relax into their embrace and some of his own internalised tension lifted.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," she muttered, nasally.

"Van, don't apologise. The nut job tried to murder you and he nearly succeeded. I've known cops who couldn't handle similar situations as well as you. You've got great instincts and mental stamina. You've blown our minds."

"Have I?"

"Do you think the others will come out the other side unaffected by this?" Con smiled. "Girl, for your first case, you've had a baptism of fire. Anything else will seem small fry."

"Doubtful. What happened to the Red-Headed Man?"

"Dead."

She pulled away to look at him although they didn't let go of each other. "Dead? How? Who did it?"

"Me. I shot him and I'm glad."

"What about the woman?"

"Also dead, by the Red-Headed Man's hands. We dunno why, perhaps Frank knows but he's in no state to tell us. Maybe the man did it just because he could…out-lived her usefulness."

Vanessa's hand went to her throat and fingered the dressing over the knife wound, courtesy of Mrs Holliday's handiwork. "Did he do the same to her as me?"

"Don't lose sleep over it, she made her own bed."

"Don't worry, I won't. I remember now how she encouraged him to kill me and even took a photo. Con…Dad? Will you marry Mom and put your name on James' birth certificate so we can be a _real_ family?"

Con's head spun at the sudden change of subject. "Whoa there Pinocchio! Where did _that_ come from?"

"I've been thinking about it."

"You think way too much." Con grunted, "Huh!" Then he went quiet and still.

Vanessa's eyes narrowed. "Now you're hiding something. What is it?" She rubbed at her nose.

"Nothing." He found a box of tissues, reached to pick it up and offered it to her.

With a yanking action, she pulled three out in quick succession like a magician. "I think I'm getting a cold." She complained, dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose. "Con?"

He looked out of the doorway at one of the PCs. "I think one of your internet friends wants to speak to you, there's one of those boxy-texty things on the screen." He used his fingers to emulate typing on a keyboard.

"Con Riley, stop avoiding. You can't lie to save your life."

"I'm not lying! There's one of those boxy-texty things. It's got writing in it." He wrinkled his nose, leaned forward and whispered, _"Nerd script."_

"Okay, so technically you're not lying, but you're dodging. Tell me!"

Con raised an eyebrow.

"TELL ME!"

He sighed in resignation and dropped his head. "Women! I can't keep anything from any of you. The female of the species and their wiley ways." He turned his head to look sideways at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "I asked your mother to marry me when I fetched her with Laura."

Vanessa's mouth dropped open. "No way!"

"I didn't want to leave with the possibility something bad might happen without her knowing how I feel; getting shot at puts life into perspective."

"And?"

"And?... And what?"

She punched him in the arm. "What did she _say_ , ya lug."

"Yes, of course! The woman can't resist me."

Vanessa screeched, or made an attempt at it, but her ruined throat wouldn't cooperate. She threw her arms around him and gave him another hug and a hard kiss on the cheek. "Does James know? I guess Laura does?"

Con beamed stupidly at her, really pleased she seemed so excited. He'd worried she would hate it. "You guess wrong. For once Laura _doesn't_ know, I asked Andrea in the bedroom. Laura wasn't there. I haven't said anything to James. I wasn't supposed to say anything to _anyone_ so don't blab."

"I won't, I promise. O-M-G! Did you go down on one knee?"

"Yeah. But I didn't have a ring so I need to sort one out."

"What about the wedding, what are your plans? Will it have a theme? Church? Garden? Marquee?"

"Van, don't run away with yourself. We only talked for about two minutes and then we grabbed Laura and high-tailed it. No plans yet, early days. We might elope," he teased.

"Don't you dare!"

Con extricated himself and rose up. "Let's get to the hospital and get you looked at. The Chief will probably want photos taken of your bruises. We need some clothes for Nancy, they're bound to have taken the ones she's wearing for analysis. Oh! And shoes. Pick her out something nice, she needs the boost." Con paused in consideration and grinned slowly. "I'm getting married!" he said, all at once he realised the gravity of the situation. "Good Lord! I'm getting married, _me!_ I'm marrying Andrea Bender. Envy me, boys."

"You sure are, and I bet they do."

"But keep it to yourself."

"My lips are sealed. Eeeep!"

Mrs Holliday appeared in the doorway with a smile. "Congratulations!"

Con groaned and slumped back onto the bed. "That's two people who shouldn't know who do. I'm _seriously_ bad with secrets."

Mrs Holliday made a zip-up gesture across her mouth and even Rebel stuck his head around the door with a look of _'I heard it all too.'_

-o0o-

Laura and Andrea arrived back in Bayport four days after the team's victory, and headed straight for the hospital. Fenton and Con met them at the front of the building and they had an emotional and relieved reunion before they took the ladies to their respective son's hospital rooms.

-o0o-

Andrea stuck her head around the edge of James' door and found James sat half upright, flicking aggressively through a magazine. His countenance lit up when he saw her there. "Andrea! You're back," he near whispered at her.

She and Con entered and looked at the second bed in the room, occupied by Joe, his back turned to the door. He appeared to be sleeping as he hadn't reacted to Andrea and Con's arrival. As if to confirm her suspicions, James went, "Shush," and tipped a thumb towards his friend. He waved Andrea forward to give her a kiss on the cheek and a prolonged hug.

Andrea looked down his body to his leg. "Painful?"

"Not really, aches and itches. I'm so bored; do you think you can talk them into letting me go home?"

Andrea looked doubtful. "I'm not a trained medic by any figment of the imagination, but even I can tell only half the job's done. Aren't you supposed to be fitted with a plaster cast?"

James sighed and threw his head down onto his pillow. "Darn your logical mind, Andrea Bender."

"Besides, you can't abandon Joe." Andrea took another look down her new son's body again, taking in his condition. She noted the tube in James' arm feeding broad spectrum antibiotics through an intravenous bag into his system to fight any possibility of infection.

 _What had happened to James resulted in him being in surgery for longer than Frank - the damage had proved complicated. The bullet had bounced around inside his leg and torn it apart before exiting. His bones had been pinned back together with a permanent mixture of screws and plates. Repairs to the surrounding tissue and muscle had followed. He'd been left with several drainage tubes and his leg in traction. Eventually, his leg will be plastered up to his thigh, removing James' mobility for at least six weeks._

"Any idea what your recovery will consist of?" Andrea asked.

"Loads of physio and exercise. And pain."

"Nothing my—" Con leaned forward theatrically, " _Police Detective_ son can't deal with," he said and grinned.

"Police Detective?" Andrea turned to James. "Did The Chief promote you?"

"He did. I'm waiting for him to realize his mistake, that he offered it to the wrong guy."

Andrea gave him another congratulatory hug. "I've always liked Ezra Collig, he makes sensible decisions." She moved to the other bed and walked around to look at Joe. His forehead and his chin were a patchwork of contusions, but the swelling had reduced enormously. He had a couple of stitches in the cut above his eye which ran right through his eyebrow. It would obviously leave a scar. "Poor Joe, another thumping."

 _A full CT scan awaited Joe upon arrival at the hospital from the chopper. They had woken him and the medical staff had been concerned at the lost sight in his one eye and his level of confusion which gradually worsened. All indications pointed to a skull fracture._

 _Thankfully upon investigation, they were able to confirm he didn't have a skull fracture. They blamed swelling. They prescribed an_ _ **anti-inflammatory and gradually his eyesight returned. H**_ _e couldn't remember a thing from when they'd left the woods to head back to Hope Industries, but wasn't going to let it worry him._

 _The only thing that bothered him was constantly being woken by the nursing staff and asked stupid questions._

Andrea leaned her arms on the side bars of Joe's bed and studied him. "Do you think there'll ever be a time when Joe 'Sir Galahad' Hardy isn't covered in bruises because he's fought to protect his family and friends?"

"Probably not," Joe muttered. He opened his eyes and treated her to one of his special smiles. "Good trip?"

She smiled back and ruffled his hair. "Would've been better if we hadn't been worried out of our minds about you bunch of reprobates!"

The door opened and Vanessa backed her way in with drinks. She didn't see Andrea until she turned around. "Mom!" she spluttered. "When did you get back?"

"Surprise!" Con announced and moved to take the drinks.

Andrea froze on the spot and stared at her daughter. "Your neck!" she whispered. "Oh baby."

Vanessa hands attempted to cover up the bruises. "Mom, they're not so—" she turned on Con, "DAD! Didn't you warn her?"

"Of course I did!"

"They're…so much worse than expected." Andrea said and walked across to reach up and take Vanessa into her arms. "My poor baby." She kissed Vanessa's forehead but froze for a few seconds, before she stepped away and gazed into Vanessa's eyes. "Did you just call Con, _Dad_?" She turned accusingly on Con who held his arms out to the side in a show of innocence.

"She started calling me that on her own! Nothing to do with _anything else_." The way he phrased the words _'anything else'_ made her narrow her eyes dangerously. "Seriously, Andrea, no connection."

"No connection to what?" James asked.

"Yeah Dad, no connection to what?" Vanessa threw a cheeky look Con's way.

Andrea and Con stared wide-eyed at one another, but were saved as the door crashed open and Nancy busted in, excited. "Frank's awake! They're taking him off the machine." she announced. "He's fine - mentally with us one hundred percent and strong as an ox!"

"At last!" Joe said and flung his bedclothes to one side, started to climb from the bed, swinging his leg high.

 _"_ _NO!"_ several voices shouted at once in horror.

Joe hadn't bothered with his pyjama bottoms and had forgotten.

"Really, Joe?" Nancy spluttered, hands over her eyes.

"You don't know the half of it," James muttered.

"I _saw_ the whole of it!"


	40. Chapter 40

**The penultimate chapter. Enjoy it while you can, chums. Thank you for all the lovely feedback. Very VERY much appreciated.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 40**

Laura froze in the doorway of Frank's hospital room at the sight of Frank trussed up…it seemed to her…to every machine available to the medical team. _"My little boy,"_ she whispered. Although Fenton had warned her of what she would find, it didn't prepare her fully for the beeps, whirrs and wheezes of the various machines. Worse of all - the livid rope marks around his neck, a vivid illustration of just how close he'd flown into the jaws of death.

Fenton attempted to reassure her. "Don't worry about the burn marks. There's no damage to his spinal cord. If the Red-Headed Man had dropped him it would've injured the vertebrae or even paralysed him…or worse. Lifting didn't have the same effect. The Red-Headed Man's fixation turned out to be Frank's saving grace."

"I fail to see the positives! I wish he'd not hanged him at all." Laura slid her hand free of her husband and walked the few steps to Frank's bed. She bent to look closely at and smoothed his hair down. Laura barely noticed Nancy's presence, her eyes for Frank alone.

Nancy stayed silent and stepped away to make room.

"Look at you, by brave son," Laura said. "Look what he's done to you." She cupped his cheek and stroked it with her thumb. "I'm sorry he hurt you, I'm sorry I haven't been here."

Frank's arm shot out, reached for something, then slammed down with a clang onto the metal hand rail and gripped hard, knuckles white with tension, tendons taut. Laura and Nancy shrieked and Fenton reached back for the door handle. His fight or flight instincts kicked in - not to run _away_ , but to run _toward_ help. Frank's sudden movement frightened the life out of them all. Fenton's brain finally got up to speed and he ran to Laura.

Frank began to shake the bed and to make stressful breath sounds as he fought the ventilator, his good arm at full strength.

Fenton pulled Laura away and muttered words of encouragement to his distressed wife.

Nancy hit the emergency button, then captured Frank's wrist as his hand redirected to the breathing tube to try and remove what his befuddled brain thought to be an obstruction. "Frank, I'm here, try to relax, help's coming," she said reassuringly, but he either didn't hear or couldn't understand. She wasn't going to be able to stop him, his strength too great. It would be only a matter of time before he attacked the tube and possibly hurt himself. "Fenton, help me!"

Fenton tried, but even between them they found it a fight. "They should have strapped his arm down; they must have known this would likely happen."

"You kidding me? He'd have gone crazy if he'd woken up tied down again and not able to breathe!"

Frank's hand found Nancy's. He gripped firmly and his writhing stopped. His eyes opened to pin her with a pleading look, so she spoke to him. "It's okay, relax, try not to fight the ventilator, it won't let you suffocate. Helps coming. Welcome back, handsome."

Frank briefly touched the side of her face where the large bruise had now reduced to a sickening yellow hue, and then he ran his index finger over her eyelid.

"Yes, my eye's back to its usual color." Nancy said and smiled. "No permanent damage. The Red-Headed Man wasn't as bad-ass as he thought."

Frank switched his hand to hold his dad's. His eyes widened, he needed an answer to something.

"We're all okay." Fenton assured him, hoped he'd answered correctly. "Joe's fine if that's what you're worried about. The Red-Headed Man didn't kill him, didn't get the chance. Con didn't let him. The guy's dead."

Frank squeezed his hand in response. Then his eyes moved and he saw Laura. His face softened and he reached to touch her hair.

Laura smiled, kissed his hand and pulled it to her cheek.

The medical personnel finally piled into the room and took over. Fenton, Nancy and Laura were ejected from the room and they finally began to separate Frank from the machine.

-o0o-

 **SOME DAYS LATER**

"You ready?" Fenton asked his son sat on the bed. He picked up Frank's bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

"I guess so, gonna have to leave at some point," Frank said.

A clang reverberated through from outside the hospital room as something collided against the door. Angry mutters followed, as well as out of control female giggles. Fenton grinned. "Joe strikes again." He made his face serious and moved to open the door.

Indeed, Fenton found Joe on the other side next to a wheelchair, his hair standing on end. "Oops." Joe attempted to smooth his wavy hair down.

"You're _not_ pushing me," Frank said. "I'll end up back in here. Dad can do it. You carry the bag."

"An accident!" Joe protested.

James appeared in view, shooting by the doorway on his own charger, his heavily plastered leg out in front as he performed an expert wheelie. He turned on a dime without dropping the front wheels and sailed by the other way.

Fenton watched James and shifted his gaze to Nancy and Vanessa who were still shrieking with laugher at Joe and clutching each other. He narrowed his eyes. "Were you popping wheelies?"

"Erm."

"Not so Spider-man now, eh?" He tossed Joe the bag, snatched the handles of the wheel chair and pulled it into the room. "All aboard," he said to Frank and put the brake on.

Frank glared at it. "It's dumb how they make you ride a wheelchair out, and then watch you in the lot, dodging traffic so as not to get run down."

Joe moved to the bed and put his hand to Frank's elbow.

Frank slapped him away. "Get off. I'm not an invalid!" He slid off the bed and slumped down into the chair. "If I don't see another hospital bed it'll be too soon." He pointed into the distance. "Onward trajectory, Daddio!"

 _Frank's recovery proved to be a tough personal fight, a fight showing no signs of slowing. He'd been reliant on the ventilator for three days, the machine providing life sustaining oxygen to compensate for his struggling and heavily bruised left lung. His crushed ribs had compromised his chest cavity and prevented the organ from operating effectively. The punches and kicks caused a massive pulmonary contusion. His medical team judged it necessary to keep him in a chemically induced coma to allow time for his damaged lung to heal and begin to fully function._

 _After the three days, his medical team had made the decision to begin a gradual reduction of the chemicals used to keep him in his comatosed state. It took only a little over twenty-four hours to wean him off the ventilator, a testament to Frank's level of fitness that he woke so quickly, especially as his doctor had warned them all it would take up to seventy two hours._

 _A heavily bandaged left arm and drainage tubes provided a stark illustration of the operation which had lasted many hours. The tubes weren't removed until the previous day, and only then had he finally been signed off, and told he could go home. A successful operation, but one which would require physiotherapy. The ruined muscle needed rebuilding._

 _None of it frightened Frank, he thrived on hard work._

Not that he particularly felt bouncy right now, more bruised and physically slow. Mentally he hadn't felt so well in a long time though. Doctor Cox had only visited him once professionally, and had gone away happy. His darkness was still lurking somewhere deep within, he could sense and feel it, but it was much further down and nestled in the remotest corner of his mind.

-o0o-

Soon after Frank returned home - not to his apartment, but to his parent's house so Laura could nurse him - he decided to throw a party to thank everyone for what they'd done. He felt it was the least he could do after the way everyone pulled together to support them. It was a small soiree, but heavy on the entertainment side. He rented several rooms at a hotel in the center of Bayport, one that had pool tables, and sourced a fun casino, a DJ and a caterer with a free bar.

Frank walked by one of the tables and saw Ben Wright racking balls onto the green felt top while Joe stood to one side chalking a cue. "Ben, I wouldn't play Joe, he's an ungracious winner."

Joe lifted one side of his mouth. "Always plenty to celebrate when I play you…if how you play can be described as 'playing'."

"Damn!" Ben snorted. He and his off-duty pals looked from Joe to Frank and waited for Frank's reaction.

Frank shrugged his right shoulder. "Joe's not lying, he plays pool better than me. Mind you, it's one of the few things he _is_ better than me at, like map reading and pulling weights. Three _important_ things. Yep, he's the lynch pin of our detective agency."

"Hey!"

"You started it."

"You said I'm an ungracious winner!"

"You are. I wasn't lying." Frank laughed at Joe's miffed expression. "Give it up, Bro."

Ben took the chalk from Joe's fingers. "You're like a couple of kids." He rubbed the blue chalk on the cue tip aggressively. "Don't worry about me, Frank, I think I can give Joe a game. Play the winner?" he invited.

Frank pointed at his left arm, strapped closely to his body. "Forgetting something? There's not many one armed pool players on the circuit."

"Ah."

Joe laughed loudly. "Well observed Ben. I thought this would be a fair fight, but if you can't even spot that—"

"See Ben? Joe doesn't know the definition of graciousness and he hasn't even won yet." He winked at Joe. "Have you seen Nan?"

"Dancing with Van? They went in that direction, anyway."

Frank turned to Ben. "Dancing…something else I'm better than Joe at." He walked away and just avoided being swiped by the cue Joe wielded with intent like some sort of medieval weapon.

 _"_ _Sword fighting, Dude. I'm better than you at sword fighting!"_ Joe yelled at his brother's retreating back.

Frank headed for the room pulsating with lights and music to see if he could find Nancy but she got to him first, intercepting him just outside the door and slipping her arm about his middle. He turned and captured her with his good arm and pulled her in for an extended kiss. "Your look beautiful."

"You don't look so tragic yourself." She smiled. "Ezra told me they arrested Albert Keane. They caught him in New York trying to exchange the diamond bracelet with a fake at the auction. They raided his Bayport residence and found jewellery making equipment. They tracked him down to New York and found the same there."

"Great Nan, well done!" Frank hugged her. "Remember to get your money from the auction house, it's the least you're owed."

They were interrupted by loud groans from the pool room, followed by heckling male voices. Joe quickly came through the door, miffed to the max.

"What happened to you?" Nancy asked.

"I lost. Badly," Joe admitted. "I blame this!" He pointed at the gradually healing scar. "It affected my game."

"Bro, it's _above_ your eye, not _on_ it."

"Whatever. It's gonna improve my game with the ladies though. Way sexy scar! Where'd Van go?" Joe asked Nancy.

"In the bar with The Chief getting _her_ sexy on."

"Nan! Getting sexy with _Ezra_? Where's your head at? I'll rescue her."

"She doesn't need rescuing, they're fine."

They walked to the quieter bar room at the far end. Sure enough, Vanessa stood with Chief of Police Ezra Collig. He leaned on the bar and their heads were close as they talked quietly. One of her hands rested in one of his, and her other lay on his upper arm. Finding The Chief out of uniform felt weird, unnatural even. Frank couldn't remember Ezra ever dressed in anything other than blue. Collig saw them and waved them over.

"I just told Vanessa the intel she collected with her online friends resulted in us picking up a whole gaggle of perps connected to Pandora. Some of those were the escaped gunmen."

Frank turned impressed eyes on Vanessa. "You did a bang-up job."

"You did you know," Joe agreed and draped his arm about her shoulders.

"So people keep on telling me. I think I might believe it myself, although I had Mark's help remember."

"Van, you did the hard work, take the credit!"

Vanessa went pink.

"Credit where credit's due," Collig said and gently squeezed her hand. "We'll probably never know which of them actually gunned Anderson and Frank down, but we can still charge them with attempted homicide.

"Sir, I've got a theory on who might have shot James," Joe said.

"I can work with a theory. Hit me with it."

"The guy James disarmed when we first got into the building? James threatened to kneecap him if he tried anything like that again. Too convenient James got nailed in the leg just after the dude got ejected from the building."

Collig nodded sagely. "I know the man. I'll have him questioned further, apply some pressure. Good thinking."

Con appeared and pulled Vanessa away a few feet to whisper into her ear. She nodded and smiled.

"They're cute together," Collig muttered as Joe took Vanessa's place at the bar. "I like Vanessa, she a nice young lady. Clever."

"Back off, she's mine. Find your own," Joe said.

Con and Vanessa started to walk off toward James and Andrea, arm-in-arm. As she passed Frank, she twirled her pinky finger into his and pulled his arm along for a little way before letting go. They grinned at each other. It wasn't a surreptitious, romantic gesture, it was done completely openly and born from their shared experience of almost being murdered at the strangling hands of the Red-Headed Man. It had strengthened their bond.

Ezra pulled Frank's attention fully back. "How's the arm, Kid?"

"Oh, you know, crap, but I'm alive and not half insane so I can live with it. Once James and I are free of bandages and plaster we're leaving for Seattle to attend the same facility I attended for my knee. Get us fighting fit." Frank's face opened up, "Oh, while I'm thinking about it—" he pulled an envelope from his inside pocket. "Can you give this to Bach?"

"What is it?"

"A voucher for his family, a vacation - _Disneyworld_. He can cash it in whenever he likes, when he's up to speed. Spending money's included. He shouldn't need to put his hand in his pocket." Frank handed it to Ezra who took it. "How's he doing by the way?"

Collig answered, "Better. We think they'll sign him out the hospital soon. Healing well, should make a full recovery. Whether he'll want to come back to us is another matter. It's hit him badly." He fanned the envelope. "Generous of you," he said sincerely and slipped it into his shirt pocket.

"If he needs anything else, let me know. Therapy might help, I can recommend someone. I feel real bad about it."

"Son, you weren't responsible. You were as much a victim. It pursued you, not the other way around." Ezra raised his hand, readying himself to slap Frank in the arm.

Frank stepped frantically backward to get out of range of the incoming assault, but trod on Nancy's toe and lost his footing.

"Ouch!" she squealed and started hopping.

" _Chief!_ " Joe shouted. His hand shot out to support and steady his brother. "I don't think you know how painful your friendly pats are."

Collig froze. "They aren't …are they?"

 _"_ _Yes!"_ the brothers chorused.

"I don't believe you." Officer Marty Wong walked by so Collig decided to use him to prove his point. "Wong, have I ever smacked you too hard in the shoulder?"

"Tons of times, Chief," Marty said without breaking stride. "It's the silent killer."

Joe looked at Collig pointedly. "You're a man mountain, you don't realize your own strength. Stop doing it, it bruises." Joe turned to the bar to order a drink. "Dude, try rubbin' or tappin' not slammin'."

"Why hasn't anyone told me?" Collig wondered, suitably chastened. "Apologies Frank, Nancy."

"Whoa," Nancy muttered, rubbing her foot. "I'm going to sit down."

Frank went with her, guided her through the crowd toward where his parents were sitting. "I'm real sorry."

"Frank, will you _stop_ apologising? You're spending half your life sorry for something. Ezra caused that, not you." She grabbed his jacket lapels and pulled him down so she could talk quietly. "But while we're on the subject of you worrying about _nothing_. Don't think I don't catch you looking at me with that face sometimes."

"It's the only one I've got."

"Well, I'm telling you again and listen good this time…the Red-Headed Man didn't do _that_ to me. He roughed me up, yes. He scared the life out of me, hell yeah. But he didn't…do… _that_ …OKAY?" She kissed him firmly on the lips, then pulled back and looked him solidly in the eyes.

He smiled down at her.

"And besides." She gave a cheeky eyebrow wiggle. "Does it seem, from our recent conduct, anything like that happened?"

Frank grinned wider and pulled her tightly to him. "Nah. If anything, massively the opposite." He loved this girl in her blue lacy dress, blue high heels and just a hint of makeup. "You're gorgeous, ever been told that?"

"I think you might've mentioned it a couple of times." She nuzzled the crook of his chin and peppered it with tiny kisses.

It tickled and made him chortle.

"I like how your throat vibrates," She muttered and carried on her assault.

"You know we've a room upstairs…let's slip away."

She stopped her burrowing. "As tempting as that is, you're the host remember."

Frank sighed.

She let him go and dropped into the seat next to Laura. She took her shoe off to inspect the damage to her foot.

Laura looked down curiously as Nancy rubbed her toe. "What happened? Dancing with Joe?"

"Ezra Collig happened."

"Honey, he didn't smack you in the shoulder did he?" Fenton asked.

"He tried to do it to Frank. Frank dodged and trod on me. Joe told him off."

"Why? It wasn't Frank's fault."

"Not Frank, ya ninny-hammer, The Chief!"

Fenton laughed, delighted and surprised. "Did he? Good boy." He turned and half stood to look for someone. "Where's Con, he's gotta hear this—" He spotted him on the other side of the room. "Hey, Con…CON!" he yelled and raised a hand.

Con didn't hear; he'd knelt down on one knee, and a hand scrambled in his pocket.

"What's he doing? Did he drop something?" Realisation dawned and Fenton's eyes widened. He dropped his palm down along with his jaw.


	41. Chapter 41

**Final chapter, folks. It's been a blast. Thank you for sticking with it through the full 41 chapters and thank you for the fantastic reviews.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 41**

"Oh my goodness!" Laura jumped to her feet. "Con's proposing."

 _"_ _What?"_ Frank and Nancy rose up to look in the same direction.

Nancy said, "No, you're mistaken, they've only been together a few months. It's Con you're talking about, he—" her voice wound down, her mouth made a silent _'O!'_ shape.

Indeed, down on one knee, Con held Andrea's hand and gazed up at her intensely, while Andrea's fingers were over her mouth as she returned his look. He said something to her. They couldn't hear the words, they didn't need to.

Vanessa stood close to her future father, smiling broadly, one hand on her waist, not at all surprised. In contrast, James stared agog in utter amazement.

Con's other hand came out of his pocket and held a ring.

Frank glanced at Joe and Ezra to see they'd realized, and saw them twisted in Con's direction, then Frank drifted back to observe the rest of the drama play out.

Andrea nodded positively, then bent to encourage Con up off the carpet with a laugh. He rose to tower over her and stepped closer. She held out her splayed fingers, so he slipped the ring on and made it official. He kissed the back of her hand. She smiled reassuringly up at him, took his face in her hands and kissed him properly. Con gradually pulled her close until they moulded together, she on her tiptoes, he curled over.

The room erupted with cheers and claps. Con grew red up to his gills and Vanessa hugged them. James sat in his wheelchair with the look of a shell-shocked man, slightly dislocated from proceedings - at least until Con turned and bent to say something quickly. James smiled and they hugged.

So, Vanessa and James had their family; Andrea had her un-possessive, loyal and honest man; and Con, the rough 'n tough kid from the wrong side of the tracks, had bagged his prom queen!

Laura and Fenton went to congratulate them along with the general surge of humanity.

Frank turned to Nancy, "Wowsers!" His eyebrows went high. "HA!"

Nancy smiled widely. "So cool. Who'd have thought Con would propose so publically? He's usually a private person. Remember how they kept their affair secret?"

"He must have been confident she'd say yes." Frank caught Joe's eye, and they shook their heads in amazement.

Laura returned to the table where Nancy and Frank sat with Andrea and Vanessa in tow. The four women sat and admired the engagement band. Frank, trapped in the middle, had to _'Ohhh'_ and _'Ahhh'_ along with them.

Con had proved himself to have surprisingly good taste for a _'man's-man'_. He'd chosen a beautiful and feminine piece of jewellery - rose gold with a central diamond and— "Look at the SIZE of that thing!" Frank sputtered.

The ladies turned and stared at him in silence. Nancy gave him a nudge.

"It's awesome," Frank muttered.

The large diamond had been married with other, smaller diamonds which graduated in size along each side of the band, and set into the shoulders.

"It's beautiful." Nancy said, and turned Andrea's finger so the light caught the stones and dazzled. "I don't know who Con went to, but the stone doesn't look to have many inclusions, and it's a great cut. An expert once told me people always think carat size is king, but they should go for clarity and cut, not size. Con chose both; he's got a great eye." She smiled at Andrea. "He talks about you all the time you know? He loves you. He thinks he's not good enough."

Andrea smiled. "He is, and I adore him."

Joe's face loomed into view next to Frank's ear; Frank jumped clear into the air and grabbed his heart. "Jeeze, Bro!"

"Sorry…Dude, this is embarrassingly girly. Be a man and come for a drink with us?" Joe glanced at the ring. "Is that monster REAL? Did Con rob a bank or something?" The ladies turned and stared at Joe this time. "What? It's massive!"

Frank stood and took Joe's arm. "Let's go, Bro," he muttered and pulled his brother away. "He just closed on the sale of his house, remember?"

They joined Joe and Ezra at the bar as Fenton and Con made their way over to them, along with James, careful not to run anyone over. It gave them the opportunity to shake Con's hand and congratulate him. Collig waved at the bartender and asked for a bottle of champagne.

James put the brake on, and tugged on Con's jacket to pull his attention down. "Give me your arm." Con offered and James used it to lift himself up from the seat. He hopped ungainly to the bar, went between Frank and Joe and leaned his forearms on the counter top. "I get ignored when I'm down there."

"Yes, I remember when I used one." Frank said.

"I ignore Jimmy anyway." Joe said.

Con collapsed the wheelchair and went to find it a suitable home where no one would fall over it.

Frank said to James, "If Joe and Vanessa marry, you'll be Joe's brother-in-law."

"Steady goes it!" Joe spluttered.

James grinned. "Cool!"

Joe's hands went to his hair. "NO! It'll make Con my _father-in-law_! He and Dad will be tag-teaming. That decides it, bachelorhood for me." He groaned theatrically, "Swift-change-of-subject, JAMES…when you gonna find yourself a girl?"

James paused for a few seconds in consideration. "Huh. Well it's not so simple." He turned his head to look Joe in the eye, chewed his lip nervously and then went for it. "I don't generally advertise it, not in my line of work, but…I allow everyone to assume I'm in the market for a girl, but in reality, you and Frank are more my type - especially you, Joe, what with being blond and racked." He ran his eyes down Joe's body and slowly smiled.

Joe's eyes went like saucers and he stood straight. "I assumed, you know…not that there's anything wrong with it, I'm more than okay with that, down with it…well, maybe not DOWN with it, but you get my drift? And as flattered as I am…Dude, you gotta know I'm with Vanessa, and like…bottom line, I'm straight…startlingly straight…and—"

"Joe, I'm kidding, I'm straight too. Boy, did _you_ panic though."

Frank guffawed loudly. "Nice one, Jimmy. Do you need a shovel to dig yourself out of that hole, Bro?"

"Whatever, James!" Joe went beet red. "You gonna get yourself a girl or _what_?"

"Not that it's anyone's business, but, honestly, it's not on my radar. I'm still getting used to having a decent Dad, and adapting to a new mom and sister. And there's my leg and promotion. It's too much right now."

"Dude, you're definitely doomed to a life of solitude and being eaten by cats."

"Screw you, The Blond One!" James choked. "What IS this obsession's with pairing yourself off with someone? I didn't say I haven't _dabbled_." His eyes unconsciously moved and he looked at someone across the room, and then at someone else.

Frank followed his gaze and saw a group of women, two of whom looked back at James confused, and then regarded each other with suspicion.

"Nothing serious," James said quickly, broke eye contact and went pink. "Just fun."

"You PLAYER!" Joe gave James a push. Unfortunately, it unbalanced him and he slid along the highly polished, wooden bar, jigging like mad on his good leg. His forearms swept several glasses along in his wake. Beer and wine sloshed everywhere. The barman snatched up the champagne, and Fenton and Ezra dived to save the receptacles. Con appeared from nowhere, caught his son and righted him. They started to laugh at his near accident and someone threw a towel into the mix. Joe patted his friend's arms down.

"Thanks a lot, Joe!"

"Sorry, Dude. Can I do anything?"

"Yeah, find my pride." A tall bar stool appeared from somewhere and James perched the edge of his butt onto it. "That's better."

"Skedaddle, Joe," Con said and eased him to one side toward Fenton and Ezra so he could stand next to James. Fenton pulled Joe into their discussion.

Frank turned his back to the bar and addressed Con and James. "Did Carson contact you yet?"

"He's enquired after James' health several times," Con answered.

"I mean in his capacity as an attorney?"

"No, why?"

"Expect him to. He's pulling together a class suit against The Network. He intends to make claims for personal damages on our behalf. From what Carson told me, he doesn't think it'll take much pressure to lever compensation out of them, including for Officer Bach. The government will want this hushed up. There's already an injunction in place to prevent press intrusion. Should be enough to cover medical bills with some left over."

Con and James regarded each other. "It'll go some way to help," James said. "We'll await his phone call."

"Have they decided to formally charge Gray?" Con asked.

"If they have, no one's talking. I'm sure we'll hear at some point, but right now everything's hush-hush."

Con snorted. "Typical government move." He and James turned back to the bar and started a different conversation. Standing so close, Frank overheard their exchange. He didn't mean to listen, but it grew interesting as it progressed and piqued his curiosity.

James said quietly to his Dad, "Don't get married until I'm out of the chair will you? I don't want to attend in that thing."

"I want my name on your birth certificate first."

James paused in surprise and dropped his voice even more. "You don't need to. I know you're my Dad. It's not a problem. It's only a piece of paper."

Con's hand came to rest firmly on James' shoulder to make him listen good. "It's _not_ only a piece of paper!" His brow furrowed and he pointed at himself with his remaining thumb. "Son, you might not find it a problem, but _I do_. My name should be on the dotted line, not Claud's. It should _never_ have been Claud's"

James grinned sheepishly. "You asking me to change my surname back to Riley?"

"Only if you're okay with it?"

"More than okay."

"We might need Carson Drew's help. I got some stuff to say, but it's not for public broadcast and—"

Clearly Frank wasn't supposed to have eavesdropped, so sighed with relief when one of the hotel staff approached and gave him a ready excuse to walk away.

"Frank, there's someone at reception who wants to speak to you."

"I know who that is." Frank leaned and tapped Joe on the shoulder. "Bro, get my drink, I think Mrs Holliday's changed her mind and decided to come after all."

"Good, I think there's a case for being _too_ cloak and dagger by staying undercover"

"She likes it. Don't spoil her fun. Probably in disguise."

"Yeah, as a man, fully moustached." Joe smiled and indicated to the bar. "Champagne?"

"Can't stand the stuff. A beer, but non-alcoholic, still on antibiotics."

Frank left the room and made his way to the reception desk. As he rounded the corner, he froze.

The person waiting for him leaned against the countertop on his elbows, a hand laid lightly on top of a document sized box. He sensed Frank's presence, looked across, and they locked eyes.

Frank knew this person. It wasn't Mrs Holliday with a moustache. Frank stared in bewilderment for a few more seconds, but eventually tore his eyes away to glance over his shoulder and check he hadn't been followed.

The man picked up the box and walked off out of sight around the side of the reception desk.

Frank pursued and caught up quickly. He took the person by the upper arm and sped them up even more. Halfway along the corridor, he stopped and stepped into the confines of a wall recess. He then used his body to obscure his friend from prying eyes. "John? What are you doing here?" he hissed, still astonished.

"Primarily to check you're recoverin'."

"What?" Frank shook his head in confusion. "I am. But how did—"

John lifted the box, "I couldn't trust what I've got here to the mail."

"What?" That puzzled Frank even more and he frowned at the box. "I don't…what are you talking about? Wait…start again." Frank centred his mind and forced his brain to concentrate on John's words.

"I can't turn it over to Arthur Gray now he's facing possible charges - not that I would have, he made some damn fool decisions with Pandora. I never could stomach the man. I prefer to deal with people of integrity like yourself."

 _'_ _Nope, he still isn't making sense!'_ Frank tightly shook his head. "That's quite the juxtaposition, being a hired killer an' all—"

"Vermin Exterminator."

"Whatever. But…John…I don't get it! What's your connection to Arthur Gray? You're not here to try and talk me into taking _assignments_ with you again, or to kidnap me?" Frank gave him a lop-sided grin. "I'm still not hungry for potato chips."

John laughed. "You got one arm incapacitated and I _still_ wouldn't want to try abductin' you. I'm guessin' Con and the boys haven't told you?"

"Told me what?"

"The Red-Headed psychopath?"

Frank's head tipped, and he rolled his hand encouragingly.

"Con Riley didn't kill him, I did. Arthur Gray asked me to look out for you."

Frank's palm stopped circling, and his eyes moved as he thought. An eyebrow peaked. "You were in the trees behind us as he hanged me. I saw you. Thought I was hallucinating, my brain starved of oxygen. You were the Grim Reaper."

John laughed, liking the comparison. "Yeah, that's me - Death himself comin' a callin', but not to take you."

"You saved my life."

John's head tipped. "I guess I did. Not somethin' I generally do in my line o' work. Made a refreshin' change."

Frank put his hand out and John grasped on. "Thanks. Con said he'd take the fall?"

John shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't take much persuadin'. An' your pa and Joe were prepared to lie. They're honorable men. Did it go against Con?"

"Nah, a nutjob like him? No one questioned Con's motives. Or if they did, they didn't think it worth saying aloud." Frank frowned, "Were you there when we were out on surveillance? I sensed someone but blamed Con."

"Pretty funny when you hammered his leg. I nearly fell out o' the tree laughin'."

"Nice to know my instincts weren't so wide of the mark. But how did you track us down? I know the Red-Headed Man eventually found our safe house, but we think Nancy slipped up under hypnoses. How did you do what no one else could?"

"By luck not design. I saw the Bayport Cop Shop bein' fired on an' followed the gunmen back to _Hope Industries_. By the time I got back to Bayport, y'all had skipped town. So I hung out at the complex until you boys showed up - I knew you would eventually. Stayed close after."

"Why didn't you go as soon as you shot the psychopath, why hang around for Dad and Con? Cops were all over the place and Con could have put his lieutenant hat on to arrest you - heck, could've shot you on sight…mad as hell, really wanted to kill the guy."

"Your pa was the threat, not Con Riley."

"What do you mean?"

"In my experience, people who say they're gonna kill someone _don't_ \- it's the quiet ones you need to look out for, and your pa was mighty quiet. I saw his face in the complex protectin' y'all, and I saw his eyes when he came through the trees at me. Con, yeah, plenty mad and still will be, but your pa…he had the look of a man done negotiatin', past talkin'. If not for Con's presence, he would've shot first n' asked questions later."

"But—"

"Frank, there's no 'but', don't be puttin' a gun in your pa's hands for a while. I know a man on the edge an' he's teeterin'."

Frank raised a concerned brow. "I'll try and make him take a break. He's back in charge now, but I'll try. I'll talk to mom."

"See you do."

"So, given you knew Dad could've blown, Con could've arrested you, and the place swamed with cops, why _did_ you hang around?"

"You were dyin' out there, I couldn't leave you, or Joe."

Frank snatched and shook John's hand again. Probably should have embraced, but would've been a step too far. They didn't let go of their palms, kept each other in a firm, comfortable, extended grasp.

Eventually John's hand slipped away and the box passed across. "Take it; it's weighin' heavy on me."

Frank accepted it clumsily. "What's in it?"

"Bits an' pieces."

Frank looked about. "You realize this place is full of cops?"

"An' that's why I'm goin'. Good luck, Frank. An' remember, if you crave a change o' pace, call me. You'd do well in my line o' work."

"Thanks for the offer, but it's not for me. Ask James. He's a crack shot."

John went quiet and thoughtful. "He IS good."

"I don't believe this, you're _actually_ considering it! John…I'm joking!"

"It's not such a bad idea. He'd blend into a crowd easily, has an honest, open face, not being too tall's an advantage—" John looked passed Frank's shoulder and made a humming noise, but then slowly shook his head. "No, wouldn't work. He's a cop through and through. Doesn't fit the personality profile of a professional killer."

"And I DO!?"

"Yeah you do. A wasted talent. I was no different to you once. See ya round."

John walked away, and Frank watched him head for the front entrance. _'I wonder what happened in John's life to set him on the path of Vermin Exterminator.'_ Frank wondered silently. Someone touched his back and made him jump.

"Hi Frank," Officer Wong said. "Great party." He half turned. "Did I miss anything?"

John heard and spun with a panicked expression, it made Frank want to laugh. Instead, Frank said quickly to Marty, "Only Con's marriage proposal to his girlfriend…sorry, _partner._ "

Marty turned to Frank bewildered, but continued to walk backward toward John. "You having me on?"

Frank laughed and his eyes flitted to John who grasped the opportunity to leave through the front exit and head off with long strides across the parking lot. "Nope, I kid you not."

"Oh man, trust me to miss that!" Marty raised his hands above his head, "I _always_ miss something. She's a bomb-shell, lucky guy. Next time we go out with Jimmy, I'll be sure to invite you and Joe along." He turned back to the reception and went around the corner.

Frank exhaled audibly, returned to the reception desk, and to the sofa opposite. He settled the box on his lap, but before he could lift the lid, his phone buzzed. He pulled the cell from his pocket and looked at the newly repaired screen.

 _"_ _Con bailed me out AGAIN! See ya, Frank. Wish Con and Andrea good luck."_

Frank laughed loudly, put his phone away, and returned to the box. He lifted the lid and straight away saw the two missing phones from the agency's filing cabinet. They sat on top of a file bearing the inscription _'The Mysterious Nature of Pandora's Box'_ in Joe's scruffy scribble. Frank laughed loudly, suddenly appreciating the humor in the title.

John must have broken into their office and took them to stop the new Pandora Posse from getting them, or The Network. All that worrying for nothing!

Also on top of the file, he found his long-owned Swiss army knife the Red-Headed Man had threatened to use on Joe and himself. He picked it up and popped it into his pocket, glad to have it back.

He picked up the Pandora file to flip through it, but a small thing slipped out, hit the blue phone, and bounced around. Eventually, it settled in the corner with a clatter. Frank shot to his feet and his heart stuttered. The speed he moved caused the box to slide off his knee and hit the ground. He backed off a couple of steps and his vision dimmed. His head experienced pins and needles, and everything tipped.

 _"_ _Frank?"_ He heard someone say from a distance, followed by quick steps. The person caught and directed him down on to the sofa. _"You all right?"_

Frank's head cleared quickly. "I'm good," he said and looked up to see Marty there. "Stood up too quick. Head rush." Suddenly he felt really drained.

"Heard you laugh and got nosy. Lucky I came back! Take it easy, Frank." Marty picked up the box and handed it him. "You're not so long out of the hospital. Don't overdo it. Do you want to lie down in my hotel room?"

"I'm good. I got my own room, but thanks for the offer."

"I'm going back. I'll see you in there but no limboing!" He turned and headed back to the function rooms.

Frank opened the box lid again slowly and took another peek at the small object that had bounced around and scared the bejesus out of him - the memory stick the woman had taunted him with containing the entire Pandora program. The flash drive that had gotten her killed.

After Frank had woken in the hospital, he'd begged his Dad to go and find it. So Fenton and Con had scoured the ground for two days, even used metal detectors, but returned empty handed. Chief Collig had gone through the psychopath's clothes packed into evidence bags, but failed to find the memory stick. He'd checked the woman's clothes, even though Frank knew it wouldn't be there. How was it they could find his tiny shirt buttons, but not a memory stick?

Frank might have suggested John as the culprit, if he'd known of John's involvement. Whether the others wondered about John's connection, he couldn't possibly know…although now, in retrospect, Con, his Dad and Joe had been unusually laid back about the absent memory stick. Told him not to get so worked up, that worrying wouldn't do any good. Maybe they'd figured it out but couldn't tell him because they'd given John their word?

Frank reached in and picked Pandora up. "Well, look at you!" he said and turned the tiny green, oblong object around in his fingers and examined it closely. He now knew how Nancy had felt when she'd been in control of the entire program. He tapped Pandora against the side of his nose thoughtfully, then slipped the stick into his inside pocket.

He repacked the box, held it against his stomach and went to join his brother for the promised celebratory drink. After, he planned to abdicate his responsibilities as host and take Nancy up to their room to celebrate in their own way.

 **THE END**

 _Hope you all enjoyed the story, I'm flattered that some of you stuck through 41 chapters!_

 _I would like to take the opportunity to thank, most sincerely and with love, Rokia for being such a great BETA reader and picking up on all of my English-isms. Trust me, her patience knew no bounds. I've really enjoyed being prodded and poked. Thank you; you've been a real friend._

 _Coming soon…Ring of Destiny [revised]_

"Oh my goodness!" Laura jumped to her feet. "Con's proposing."

 _"_ _What?"_ Frank and Nancy rose up to look in the same direction.

Nancy said, "No, you're mistaken, they've only been together a few months. It's Con you're talking about, he—" her voice wound down, her mouth made a silent _'O!'_ shape.

Indeed, down on one knee, Con held Andrea's hand and gazed up at her intensely, while Andrea's fingers were over her mouth as she returned his look. He said something to her. They couldn't hear the words, they didn't need to.

Vanessa stood close to her future father, smiling broadly, one hand on her waist, not at all surprised. In contrast, James stared agog in utter amazement.

Con's other hand came out of his pocket and held a ring.

Frank glanced at Joe and Ezra to see they'd realized, and saw them twisted in Con's direction, then Frank drifted back to observe the rest of the drama play out.

Andrea nodded positively, then bent to encourage Con up off the carpet with a laugh. He rose to tower over her and stepped closer. She held out her splayed fingers, so he slipped the ring on and made it official. He kissed the back of her hand. She smiled reassuringly up at him, took his face in her hands and kissed him properly. Con gradually pulled her close until they moulded together, she on her tiptoes, he curled over.

The room erupted with cheers and claps. Con grew red up to his gills and Vanessa hugged them. James sat in his wheelchair with the look of a shell-shocked man, slightly dislocated from proceedings - at least until Con turned and bent to say something quickly. James smiled and they hugged.

So, Vanessa and James had their family; Andrea had her un-possessive, loyal and honest man; and Con, the rough 'n tough kid from the wrong side of the tracks, had bagged his prom queen!

Laura and Fenton went to congratulate them along with the general surge of humanity.

Frank turned to Nancy, "Wowsers!" His eyebrows went high. "HA!"

Nancy smiled widely. "So cool. Who'd have thought Con would propose so publically? He's usually a private person. Remember how they kept their affair secret?"

"He must have been confident she'd say yes." Frank caught Joe's eye, and they shook their heads in amazement.

Laura returned to the table where Nancy and Frank sat with Andrea and Vanessa in tow. The four women sat and admired the engagement band. Frank, trapped in the middle, had to _'Ohhh'_ and _'Ahhh'_ along with them.

Con had proved himself to have surprisingly good taste for a _'man's-man'_. He'd chosen a beautiful and feminine piece of jewellery - rose gold with a central diamond and— "Look at the SIZE of that thing!" Frank sputtered.

The ladies turned and stared at him in silence. Nancy gave him a nudge.

"It's awesome," Frank muttered.

The large diamond had been married with other, smaller diamonds which graduated in size along each side of the band, and set into the shoulders.

"It's beautiful." Nancy said, and turned Andrea's finger so the light caught the stones and dazzled. "I don't know who Con went to, but the stone doesn't look to have many inclusions, and it's a great cut. An expert once told me people always think carat size is king, but they should go for clarity and cut, not size. Con chose both; he's got a great eye." She smiled at Andrea. "He talks about you all the time you know? He loves you. He thinks he's not good enough."

Andrea smiled. "He is, and I adore him."

Joe's face loomed into view next to Frank's ear; Frank jumped clear into the air and grabbed his heart. "Jeeze, Bro!"

"Sorry…Dude, this is embarrassingly girly. Be a man and come for a drink with us?" Joe glanced at the ring. "Is that monster REAL? Did Con rob a bank or something?" The ladies turned and stared at Joe this time. "What? It's massive!"

Frank stood and took Joe's arm. "Let's go, Bro," he muttered and pulled his brother away. "He just closed on the sale of his house, remember?"

They joined Joe and Ezra at the bar as Fenton and Con made their way over to them, along with James, careful not to run anyone over. It gave them the opportunity to shake Con's hand and congratulate him. Collig waved at the bartender and asked for a bottle of champagne.

James put the brake on, and tugged on Con's jacket to pull his attention down. "Give me your arm." Con offered and James used it to lift himself up from the seat. He hopped ungainly to the bar, went between Frank and Joe and leaned his forearms on the counter top. "I get ignored when I'm down there."

"Yes, I remember when I used one." Frank said.

"I ignore Jimmy anyway." Joe said.

Con collapsed the wheelchair and went to find it a suitable home where no one would fall over it.

Frank said to James, "If Joe and Vanessa marry, you'll be Joe's brother-in-law."

"Steady goes it!" Joe spluttered.

James grinned. "Cool!"

Joe's hands went to his hair. "NO! It'll make Con my _father-in-law_! He and Dad will be tag-teaming. That decides it, bachelorhood for me." He groaned theatrically, "Swift-change-of-subject, JAMES…when you gonna find yourself a girl?"

James paused for a few seconds in consideration. "Huh. Well it's not so simple." He turned his head to look Joe in the eye, chewed his lip nervously and then went for it. "I don't generally advertise it, not in my line of work, but…I allow everyone to assume I'm in the market for a girl, but in reality, you and Frank are more my type - especially you, Joe, what with being blond and racked." He ran his eyes down Joe's body and slowly smiled.

Joe's eyes went like saucers and he stood straight. "I assumed, you know…not that there's anything wrong with it, I'm more than okay with that, down with it…well, maybe not DOWN with it, but you get my drift? And as flattered as I am…Dude, you gotta know I'm with Vanessa, and like…bottom line, I'm straight…startlingly straight…and—"

"Joe, I'm kidding, I'm straight too. Boy, did _you_ panic though."

Frank guffawed loudly. "Nice one, Jimmy. Do you need a shovel to dig yourself out of that hole, Bro?"

"Whatever, James!" Joe went beet red. "You gonna get yourself a girl or _what_?"

"Not that it's anyone's business, but, honestly, it's not on my radar. I'm still getting used to having a decent Dad, and adapting to a new mom and sister. And there's my leg and promotion. It's too much right now."

"Dude, you're definitely doomed to a life of solitude and being eaten by cats."

"Screw you, The Blond One!" James choked. "What IS this obsession's with pairing yourself off with someone? I didn't say I haven't _dabbled_." His eyes unconsciously moved and he looked at someone across the room, and then at someone else.

Frank followed his gaze and saw a group of women, two of whom looked back at James confused, and then regarded each other with suspicion.

"Nothing serious," James said quickly, broke eye contact and went pink. "Just fun."

"You PLAYER!" Joe gave James a push. Unfortunately, it unbalanced him and he slid along the highly polished, wooden bar, jigging like mad on his good leg. His forearms swept several glasses along in his wake. Beer and wine sloshed everywhere. The barman snatched up the champagne, and Fenton and Ezra dived to save the receptacles. Con appeared from nowhere, caught his son and righted him. They started to laugh at his near accident and someone threw a towel into the mix. Joe patted his friend's arms down.

"Thanks a lot, Joe!"

"Sorry, Dude. Can I do anything?"

"Yeah, find my pride." A tall bar stool appeared from somewhere and James perched the edge of his butt onto it. "That's better."

"Skedaddle, Joe," Con said and eased him to one side toward Fenton and Ezra so he could stand next to James. Fenton pulled Joe into their discussion.

Frank turned his back to the bar and addressed Con and James. "Did Carson contact you yet?"

"He's enquired after James' health several times," Con answered.

"I mean in his capacity as an attorney?"

"No, why?"

"Expect him to. He's pulling together a class suit against The Network. He intends to make claims for personal damages on our behalf. From what Carson told me, he doesn't think it'll take much pressure to lever compensation out of them, including for Officer Bach. The government will want this hushed up. There's already an injunction in place to prevent press intrusion. Should be enough to cover medical bills with some left over."

Con and James regarded each other. "It'll go some way to help," James said. "We'll await his phone call."

"Have they decided to formally charge Gray?" Con asked.

"If they have, no one's talking. I'm sure we'll hear at some point, but right now everything's hush-hush."

Con snorted. "Typical government move." He and James turned back to the bar and started a different conversation. Standing so close, Frank overheard their exchange. He didn't mean to listen, but it grew interesting as it progressed and piqued his curiosity.

James said quietly to his Dad, "Don't get married until I'm out of the chair will you? I don't want to attend in that thing."

"I want my name on your birth certificate first."

James paused in surprise and dropped his voice even more. "You don't need to. I know you're my Dad. It's not a problem. It's only a piece of paper."

Con's hand came to rest firmly on James' shoulder to make him listen good. "It's _not_ only a piece of paper!" His brow furrowed and he pointed at himself with his remaining thumb. "Son, you might not find it a problem, but _I do_. My name should be on the dotted line, not Claud's. It should _never_ have been Claud's"

James grinned sheepishly. "You asking me to change my surname back to Riley?"

"Only if you're okay with it?"

"More than okay."

"We might need Carson Drew's help. I got some stuff to say, but it's not for public broadcast and—"

Clearly Frank wasn't supposed to have eavesdropped, so sighed with relief when one of the hotel staff approached and gave him a ready excuse to walk away.

"Frank, there's someone at reception who wants to speak to you."

"I know who that is." Frank leaned and tapped Joe on the shoulder. "Bro, get my drink, I think Mrs Holliday's changed her mind and decided to come after all."

"Good, I think there's a case for being _too_ cloak and dagger by staying undercover"

"She likes it. Don't spoil her fun. Probably in disguise."

"Yeah, as a man, fully moustached." Joe smiled and indicated to the bar. "Champagne?"

"Can't stand the stuff. A beer, but non-alcoholic, still on antibiotics."

Frank left the room and made his way to the reception desk. As he rounded the corner, he froze.

The person waiting for him leaned against the countertop on his elbows, a hand laid lightly on top of a document sized box. He sensed Frank's presence, looked across, and they locked eyes.

Frank knew this person. It wasn't Mrs Holliday with a moustache. Frank stared in bewilderment for a few more seconds, but eventually tore his eyes away to glance over his shoulder and check he hadn't been followed.

The man picked up the box and walked off out of sight around the side of the reception desk.

Frank pursued and caught up quickly. He took the person by the upper arm and sped them up even more. Halfway along the corridor, he stopped and stepped into the confines of a wall recess. He then used his body to obscure his friend from prying eyes. "John? What are you doing here?" he hissed, still astonished.

"Primarily to check you're recoverin'."

"What?" Frank shook his head in confusion. "I am. But how did—"

John lifted the box, "I couldn't trust what I've got here to the mail."

"What?" That puzzled Frank even more and he frowned at the box. "I don't…what are you talking about? Wait…start again." Frank centred his mind and forced his brain to concentrate on John's words.

"I can't turn it over to Arthur Gray now he's facing possible charges - not that I would have, he made some damn fool decisions with Pandora. I never could stomach the man. I prefer to deal with people of integrity like yourself."

 _'_ _Nope, he still isn't making sense!'_ Frank tightly shook his head. "That's quite the juxtaposition, being a hired killer an' all—"

"Vermin Exterminator."

"Whatever. But…John…I don't get it! What's your connection to Arthur Gray? You're not here to try and talk me into taking _assignments_ with you again, or to kidnap me?" Frank gave him a lop-sided grin. "I'm still not hungry for potato chips."

John laughed. "You got one arm incapacitated and I _still_ wouldn't want to try abductin' you. I'm guessin' Con and the boys haven't told you?"

"Told me what?"

"The Red-Headed psychopath?"

Frank's head tipped, and he rolled his hand encouragingly.

"Con Riley didn't kill him, I did. Arthur Gray asked me to look out for you."

Frank's palm stopped circling, and his eyes moved as he thought. An eyebrow peaked. "You were in the trees behind us as he hanged me. I saw you. Thought I was hallucinating, my brain starved of oxygen. You were the Grim Reaper."

John laughed, liking the comparison. "Yeah, that's me - Death himself comin' a callin', but not to take you."

"You saved my life."

John's head tipped. "I guess I did. Not somethin' I generally do in my line o' work. Made a refreshin' change."

Frank put his hand out and John grasped on. "Thanks. Con said he'd take the fall?"

John shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't take much persuadin'. An' your pa and Joe were prepared to lie. They're honorable men. Did it go against Con?"

"Nah, a nutjob like him? No one questioned Con's motives. Or if they did, they didn't think it worth saying aloud." Frank frowned, "Were you there when we were out on surveillance? I sensed someone but blamed Con."

"Pretty funny when you hammered his leg. I nearly fell out o' the tree laughin'."

"Nice to know my instincts weren't so wide of the mark. But how did you track us down? I know the Red-Headed Man eventually found our safe house, but we think Nancy slipped up under hypnoses. How did you do what no one else could?"

"By luck not design. I saw the Bayport Cop Shop bein' fired on an' followed the gunmen back to _Hope Industries_. By the time I got back to Bayport, y'all had skipped town. So I hung out at the complex until you boys showed up - I knew you would eventually. Stayed close after."

"Why didn't you go as soon as you shot the psychopath, why hang around for Dad and Con? Cops were all over the place and Con could have put his lieutenant hat on to arrest you - heck, could've shot you on sight…mad as hell, really wanted to kill the guy."

"Your pa was the threat, not Con Riley."

"What do you mean?"

"In my experience, people who say they're gonna kill someone _don't_ \- it's the quiet ones you need to look out for, and your pa was mighty quiet. I saw his face in the complex protectin' y'all, and I saw his eyes when he came through the trees at me. Con, yeah, plenty mad and still will be, but your pa…he had the look of a man done negotiatin', past talkin'. If not for Con's presence, he would've shot first n' asked questions later."

"But—"

"Frank, there's no 'but', don't be puttin' a gun in your pa's hands for a while. I know a man on the edge an' he's teeterin'."

Frank raised a concerned brow. "I'll try and make him take a break. He's back in charge now, but I'll try. I'll talk to mom."

"See you do."

"So, given you knew Dad could've blown, Con could've arrested you, and the place swamed with cops, why _did_ you hang around?"

"You were dyin' out there, I couldn't leave you, or Joe."

Frank snatched and shook John's hand again. Probably should have embraced, but would've been a step too far. They didn't let go of their palms, kept each other in a firm, comfortable, extended grasp.

Eventually John's hand slipped away and the box passed across. "Take it; it's weighin' heavy on me."

Frank accepted it clumsily. "What's in it?"

"Bits an' pieces."

Frank looked about. "You realize this place is full of cops?"

"An' that's why I'm goin'. Good luck, Frank. An' remember, if you crave a change o' pace, call me. You'd do well in my line o' work."

"Thanks for the offer, but it's not for me. Ask James. He's a crack shot."

John went quiet and thoughtful. "He IS good."

"I don't believe this, you're _actually_ considering it! John…I'm joking!"

"It's not such a bad idea. He'd blend into a crowd easily, has an honest, open face, not being too tall's an advantage—" John looked passed Frank's shoulder and made a humming noise, but then slowly shook his head. "No, wouldn't work. He's a cop through and through. Doesn't fit the personality profile of a professional killer."

"And I DO!?"

"Yeah you do. A wasted talent. I was no different to you once. See ya round."

John walked away, and Frank watched him head for the front entrance. _'I wonder what happened in John's life to set him on the path of Vermin Exterminator.'_ Frank wondered silently. Someone touched his back and made him jump.

"Hi Frank," Officer Wong said. "Great party." He half turned. "Did I miss anything?"

John heard and spun with a panicked expression, it made Frank want to laugh. Instead, Frank said quickly to Marty, "Only Con's marriage proposal to his girlfriend…sorry, _partner._ "

Marty turned to Frank bewildered, but continued to walk backward toward John. "You having me on?"

Frank laughed and his eyes flitted to John who grasped the opportunity to leave through the front exit and head off with long strides across the parking lot. "Nope, I kid you not."

"Oh man, trust me to miss that!" Marty raised his hands above his head, "I _always_ miss something. She's a bomb-shell, lucky guy. Next time we go out with Jimmy, I'll be sure to invite you and Joe along." He turned back to the reception and went around the corner.

Frank exhaled audibly, returned to the reception desk, and to the sofa opposite. He settled the box on his lap, but before he could lift the lid, his phone buzzed. He pulled the cell from his pocket and looked at the newly repaired screen.

 _"_ _Con bailed me out AGAIN! See ya, Frank. Wish Con and Andrea good luck."_

Frank laughed loudly, put his phone away, and returned to the box. He lifted the lid and straight away saw the two missing phones from the agency's filing cabinet. They sat on top of a file bearing the inscription _'The Mysterious Nature of Pandora's Box'_ in Joe's scruffy scribble. Frank laughed loudly, suddenly appreciating the humor in the title.

John must have broken into their office and took them to stop the new Pandora Posse from getting them, or The Network. All that worrying for nothing!

Also on top of the file, he found his long-owned Swiss army knife the Red-Headed Man had threatened to use on Joe and himself. He picked it up and popped it into his pocket, glad to have it back.

He picked up the Pandora file to flip through it, but a small thing slipped out, hit the blue phone, and bounced around. Eventually, it settled in the corner with a clatter. Frank shot to his feet and his heart stuttered. The speed he moved caused the box to slide off his knee and hit the ground. He backed off a couple of steps and his vision dimmed. His head experienced pins and needles, and everything tipped.

 _"_ _Frank?"_ He heard someone say from a distance, followed by quick steps. The person caught and directed him down on to the sofa. _"You all right?"_

Frank's head cleared quickly. "I'm good," he said and looked up to see Marty there. "Stood up too quick. Head rush." Suddenly he felt really drained.

"Heard you laugh and got nosy. Lucky I came back! Take it easy, Frank." Marty picked up the box and handed it him. "You're not so long out of the hospital. Don't overdo it. Do you want to lie down in my hotel room?"

"I'm good. I got my own room, but thanks for the offer."

"I'm going back. I'll see you in there but no limboing!" He turned and headed back to the function rooms.

Frank opened the box lid again slowly and took another peek at the small object that had bounced around and scared the bejesus out of him - the memory stick the woman had taunted him with containing the entire Pandora program. The flash drive that had gotten her killed.

After Frank had woken in the hospital, he'd begged his Dad to go and find it. So Fenton and Con had scoured the ground for two days, even used metal detectors, but returned empty handed. Chief Collig had gone through the psychopath's clothes packed into evidence bags, but failed to find the memory stick. He'd checked the woman's clothes, even though Frank knew it wouldn't be there. How was it they could find his tiny shirt buttons, but not a memory stick?

Frank might have suggested John as the culprit, if he'd known of John's involvement. Whether the others wondered about John's connection, he couldn't possibly know…although now, in retrospect, Con, his Dad and Joe had been unusually laid back about the absent memory stick. Told him not to get so worked up, that worrying wouldn't do any good. Maybe they'd figured it out but couldn't tell him because they'd given John their word?

Frank reached in and picked Pandora up. "Well, look at you!" he said and turned the tiny green, oblong object around in his fingers and examined it closely. He now knew how Nancy had felt when she'd been in control of the entire program. He tapped Pandora against the side of his nose thoughtfully, then slipped the stick into his inside pocket.

He repacked the box, held it against his stomach and went to join his brother for the promised celebratory drink. After, he planned to abdicate his responsibilities as host and take Nancy up to their room to celebrate in their own way.

 **THE END**

 ** _I would like to take the opportunity to thank, most sincerely and with love, Rokia for being such a great BETA reader and picking up on all of my English-isms. Trust me, her patience knew no bounds. I've really enjoyed being prodded and poked. Thank you; you've been a real friend. And I'd like to thank Alaina for the continued use of Rebel, her beautiful, loyal friend who sadly passed away. He'll always have a special place in our hearts over at the HDA._**

 ** _COMING SOON! = RING OF DESTINY_** ** _[REVISED]_**


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